KOREAN  GIRLIES 


The  Happiest  Girl 
in  Korea 

And  Other  Stories  From 
The  Land  of  Morning  Calm 

By 

MINERVA  L.  GUTHAPFEL 


ILLUSTRATED 


LIBRARY  OF  : RINCETON 


JAN  2 


THEOLOGICA 

i 

New  York  Chicago  Toronto 

Fleming  H.  Revell  Company 

London  and  Edinburgh 


ZUod 


SEMINARY 


Copyright,  1911,  by 

FLEMING  H.  REVELL  COMPANY 


New  York:  158  Fifth  Avenue 
Chicago:  123  N.  Wabash  Ave. 
Toronto:  25  Richmond  St.,  W. 
London:  21  Paternoster  Square 
Edinburgh:  100  Princes  Street 


Dedicated  to 


the  brave  little  people , children  of  missionary 
parents , who  are  forced  at  an  early  age  to 
leave  mother  when  she  seems  the  dearest  and 
father  when  he  seems  the  nearest , to  journey 
to  the  distant  homeland  for  education  and  the 
acquiring  a purer  manhood  and  womanhoody 
this  book  is  affectionately  dedicated. 

All  hail  to  them , who  when  childhood 
is  passed , with  homesickness , loneliness  and 
heartaches  all  conquered , turn  with  loving 
hearts  to  their  Maker  first , then  to  the  Mis- 
sionary Societies , and  are  sent  back  to  the 
help  of  the  people  for  whose  well-being  their 
parents  laid  down  their  lives. 

Yours  the  sacrifice , 

Yours  will  be  the  reward. 


PREFACE 


“ Please  tell  me  a story  of  the  children  in 
the  country  where  you  have  been.” 

“ Sister,  do  you  know  anything  else  about 
Korea,  tell  it  to  me  in  a story , won’t  you?  ” 

“ So  glad  you  came  to  us  to-day,  hope  you 
will  tell  the  children  in  our  Sunday  School 
something  about  Korea,  but  do  tell  it  in  a story 
form  if  you  can.  They  like  stories  best.” 

The  first  request  comes  to  the  missionary 
who  is  speaking  in  the  homeland,  from  the 
little  children  in  the  homes  where  she  is  enter- 
tained, the  second  request  is  from  the  lips  of 
the  little  sister  in  her  own  seldom  visited  home, 
and  the  third  from  the  faithful  Sunday  School 
superintendents  and  teachers.  Children  like 
everything  in  story  form.  The  writer  of  these 
stories  loves  children,  and  now  places  before 
them,  in  writing,  the  stories  she  told  in  answer 
to  these  requests. 

To  the  older  people  we  would  say  that  every 
story  is  founded  on  fact,  and  taken  from  inci- 
dents that  happened  in  the  brave  little  land  of 
“ Morning  Calm.”  The  majority  of  these  sto- 
ries first  appeared  in  the  Woman's  Missionary 
Friend  and  the  Children's  Missionary  Friend 
of  the  Woman’s  Foreign  Missionary  Society 
of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church.  Two 
stories,  “ The  Prince  of  Korea,”  and  “ You- 
po-gie,”  were  published  by  Every  land,  the  in- 
7 


8 


Preface 


terdenominational  missionary  magazine  for 
boys  and  girls.  To  these  two  papers  the 
writer  wishes  to  return  sincere  thanks  for  both 
the  printing  of  the  stories  and  the  return  of 
them  for  use  in  this  little  book. 

The  “ Happiest  Girl/'  “ More  About  the 
Happiest  Girl,”  “ You-po-gie,”  and  the 
“ Prince  of  Korea  ” are  true  incidents  reported 
from  actual  happenings,  therefore  true  stories. 

May  the  reading  of  these  stories  be  as  much 
a blessing  to  the  friends  who  shall  wander 
through  them,  as  the  experiencing  and  writing 
of  these  incidents  have  been  to  the  lover  of 
Koreans. 


Seoul,  Korea. 


M.  G. 


Contents 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea  . . .13 

II.  More  About  the  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea  . 19 

III.  The  Korean  Baby  Thinks  ....  26 

IV.  Under  the  Cross  of  Gold  ....  31 

V.  “ Only  a Prince  of  Korea]”  ....  45 

VI.  The  Prince  at  Play  .....  64 

VII.  You-po-gie 76 

VIII.  A Letter  from  Seoul 91 

IX.  The  Ringing  Bells 104 


Illustrations 


Korean  girlies Frontispiece 

Facing  Page 

Oak-pun-ie,  the  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea  ...  20 

“ You  can’t  see  me  ” 26 

Now  it  looks  different  at  our  home  ....  30 

The  blind  girls  of  the  school,  1909  ....  34 

The  brave  stone  dragons 46 

Korean  boys 76 

“ The  doctor  took  him  by  the  hand — there  You-po- 
gie  stood  for  all  to  behold  ” 


88 


I 


THE  HAPPIEST  GIRL  IN  KOREA 

“ ~T"^ID  y°u  want  me?”  The  missionary 
m smiled  into  the  eager  brown  face 
turned  toward  her. 

“ Yes,”  answered  the  fourteen-year-old  Ko- 
rean girl  who  had  called  after  her.  Dropping 
her  hand  from  the  latch  of  the  hospital  door 
the  missionary  turned  and  sat  down  on  the 
floor  beside  the  girl. 

“ What  is  it,  Oak-pun-ie  ? ” 

There  was  a moment  of  shy  silence,  then  a 
question : “ Are  you  going  to  your  own  coun- 
try soon,  Lady?” 

“ Yes,  dear,  in  one  week’s  time.” 

“ Will  you  see  the  people,  your  friends,  who 
sent  all  the  things  for  this  Christmas  tree  and 
the  presents  for  all  of  us  ? ” 

“ Oh,  yes,  if  God  spares  me  to  get  to  them ! ” 
was  the  answer. 

“ Well,”  a pause,  “ I just  wanted  to  say, — • 
tell  them  that  Oak-pun-ie  thanks  them,  will 
you  ? ” 

Pleased  with  the  sweet  request,  the  mission- 
ary gladly  assented,  but  laughingly  said : 
“ Oak-pun-ie,  these  friends  of  mine  do  not 
know  you.  How  shall  I tell  them  who  you 
are  ? ” The  answer  came  quickly. 

13 


14  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

“ Why,  tell  them,  Oak-pun-ie,  the  happiest 
girl  in  the  world ! ” 

“ Happiest  girl  in  the  world  ? ” The  mis- 
sionary gasped.  “ No,  no,  Oak-pun-ie,  I 
couldn’t  say  that.  The  world  is  big  and  you 
might  not  be  the  happiest  in  it,  or  at  least,  my 
friends  might  not  think  you  were ! ” The 
bright  face  fell,  but  soon  cleared  again. 

“ Well,  then,  tell  them  the  happiest  girl  in 
Korea ! Yes,  that  is  better.  There  is  no  one 
happier  to-day  in  my  country  than  I.” 

The  missionary  looked  at  the  tightly  shut 
lips  and  the  eager  face,  and  marvelled.  If  the 
Master  were  seated  there  at  that  moment, 
would  He  not  say,  “ I have  not  found  so  great 
a heart,  no  not  in  all  Israel  ? ” 

Before  her  mind’s  eye  passed  the  brief  life 
story  of  that  girl, — her  birth  into  a poverty- 
stricken  home,  with  hunger  and  cold  for  con- 
stant companions;  later,  sold  as  a slave  to  a 
wealthy  Korean  family,  her  parents  receiving 
in  exchange  the  food  that  would  keep  the 
hungry  little  ones  left;  hard  work  and  cruel 
beatings  added  to  the  earlier  companions,  until 
the  bitterly  cold  day  when  two  hands  and  a 
foot  suffered  frost-bite  and  pain  was  added  to 
the  already  weary  load  of  hard  experiences; 
then,  months  after,  when  work  had  become 
impossible,  a journey  with  her  owners  to  “ that 
foreign  doctor,  to  get  you  well  as  soon  as  possi- 
ble, so  that  you  can  be  of  some  use.” 

The  little  hospital  reached,  frightened  at  the 
foreign  women,  but  too  ill  to  care  much,  she 
slept  beneath  snowy  sheets  on  a funny  thing 
which  these  foreigners  called  a bed.  The 


The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea  15 

awakening  next  day  brought  comfort,  how- 
ever,— food,  warmth,  kind  words,  yes,  even  a 
smile  from  the  sweet-faced  doctor  and  nurses. 
When  she  asked  about  her  owners,  she  was 
told  that  they  would  not  come  for  her  for  a 
long,  long  time,  if  she  would  stay  and  be 
made  well.  Weary  and  suffering,  she  said, 
“ It  will  be  good,”  and  resigned  herself  to 
Fate.  It  couldn’t  be  worse  than  it  had  been. 

The  months  passed  until  eight  had  flown  by. 
Many  days  were  spent  in  burning  fever,  many 
also  in  comparative  comfort,  when  the  pain 
lessened.  Several  times  she  had  been  put  to 
sleep  with  some  strange  smelling  “ yak  ” 
(medicine)  and  when  she  had  awakened,  the 
doctor  and  nurses  had  said:  “ Now  you  will  be 
better,  Oak-pun-ie.  We  have  fixed  your  hands 
and  the  sore  foot.”  But  somehow,  they  always 
hurt  again  after  a time.  How  she  dreaded 
these  daily  dressings!  But  it  helped  some  if 
the  American  nurse,  or  that  American  “ ping-in 
pou-in  ” (sick  lady)  would  come  and  hold  her 
hands  and  foot.  Then  she  could  keep  her  lips 
shut  better  and  moan  through  them  instead  of 
crying  aloud. 

A shudder  passed  over  the  missionary  as  she 
remembered  the  days  when  she  had  held  the 
poor  hands  and  foot.  How  well  she  recalled 
her  own  illness  later,  the  hasty  removal  from 
the  city,  the  return  in  a little  better  health,  and 
the  first  visit  to  the  hospital. 

Seated  in  the  sunshine  of  the  September  day 
was  Oak-pun-ie,  looking  much  better  also. 
With  a little  cry  of  joy  she  held  up  two  hand- 
less arms  and  one  footless  leg. 


i6  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

“ See,  Lady,  the  doctor  cut  my  pain  all  away 
when  you  were  gone.”  Again  the  missionary 
shuddered  as  she  saw  the  girl  so  eager  to  tell 
the  news  that  no  more  daily  dressings  were  to 
be  endured. 

That  was  September;  this,  the  twenty-fifth 
of  December,  1906;  the  place,  the  little  hospital 
of  the  Woman’s  Foreign  Missionary  Society 
of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  in  Seoul, 
Korea.  The  Christmas  exercises  with  the 
patients  had  just  been  held,  and  the  little 
Christmas  tree,  robbed  of  its  gifts,  glimmered 
in  the  corner.  The  missionary  smiled  an  apol- 
ogy into  the  eager  eyes  looking  into  hers. 

“ I was  just  thinking,  Oak-pun-ie,  of  what 
you  said.  Yes,  dear,  I will  tell  my  friends  that 
the  happiest  girl  in  Korea  thanks  them,  pro- 
vided you  will  tell  me  why  you  are  the  happi- 
est, so  that  I can  convince  them  of  the  fact.” 
Oak-pun-ie’s  brow  was  wrinkled  for  a moment, 
but  soon  cleared. 

“ All  right,  that  is  easy.  There  are  several 
reasons.” 

“ Very  well,  name  them,”  said  the  stupid 
missionary,  “ and  I will  count.  First?  ” 

“ Why,  let  me  see.”  Oak-pun-ie  looked 
very  wise.  “ First,  I am  the  happiest  because 
I have  had  all  my  pain  taken  away.” 

“ One,”  counted  the  missionary. 

“ Oh,  yes ! and  I haven’t  been  beaten  once, 
all  the  months  I have  been  here.” 

“ Two,”  counted  the  missionary,  after  she 
had  choked  something  down  in  her  throat. 

“ And  then  I haven’t  been  hungry  since  I 
came,  either.” 


The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea  17 

“ Three,”  continued  the  counter,  swallowing 
hard. 

“ And  O Lady ! the  doctor  says  I am  never 
going  back  to  those  people  but  am  to  stay  here 
always ! ” 

“ Four,”  said  the  listener,  a mental  picture 
of  the  poorly  equipped,  over-crowded,  incon- 
venient hospital,  as  a home  forevermore,  rising 
before  her. 

“ And,  oh ! I must  not  forget,  Lady.  Why, 
there’s  another!  I’ve  seen  a Christmas  tree. 
I never  saw  anything  so  pretty  before.” 

“ Five,”  counted  the  lady,  as  she  looked  at 
the  tree  decked  with  seven  tinsel  ornaments, 
left  over  after  the  other  trees  had  been 
trimmed.  She  wondered  what  the  little  sister 
in  America  would  say  if  she  had  to  endure 
that  tree  even  one  Christmas  season. 

Turning  to  the  child  before  her,  she  found 
her  silent,  with  eyes  that  did  not  look  sad,  yet 
shining  through  tears.  “ What  is  it,  Oak-pun- 
ie?”  she  said  gently.  “Have  you  told  me 
all?” 

“ No,  Lady,  one  more,  and  it’s  the  very  last. 
Oh!  don’t  you  know,  can’t  you  guess?  Why, 
they  told  me  that  if  I would  pray  to  Jesus,  he 
would  take  my  sins  away,  just  as  he  did  for  the 
others  here  who  have  hands  and  feet.  They 
said  he  loved  me,  too,  Oak-pun-ie,  who  hasn’t 
any  hands  and  only  a foot ! And  I did  it,  and 
he  did!  He  took  them  all  away.  And  he  loves 
me,  I know  it  inside  here.  Isn’t  that  enough 
to  tell  your  people?  Lady,  it’s  true,  I am  the 
happiest  girl  in  Korea.  Tell  them  4 Thank 
you,’  please,  for  me ! ” 


18  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

The  missionary  rose  with  tear-dimmed  eyes, 
scarcely  able  to  speak.  “ I will,  Oak-pun-ie,  I 
will,”  she  said.  “ God  bless  you,  dear,  I will. 
I’ll  tell  them.” 

Outside  the  door  she  caught  her  breath  and 
let  the  tears  fall  on  the  snowy  ground.  “ O 
God,”  she  breathed,  “ if  I must  go  back  to  my 
country  to  get  well,  let  me  have  the  chance  to 
tell  them  of  the  happiest  girl  in  Korea.” 

God  heard,  and  she  is  telling  it  to  you  of 
America. 

They  are  listening,  Oak-pun-ie!  You  have 
not  lived  and  suffered  in  vain,  dear  one.  Your 
“ Thank  you  ” will  be  heard ! 


II 


MORE  ABOUT  THE  HAPPIEST  GIRL 
IN  KOREA 


HE  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea  was  very, 


very  busy.  She  was  writing  the  first 


letter  that  she  had  ever  sent  out  of 
her  own  country.  It  was  not  an  ordinary  let- 
ter, either.  It  was  a “ thank  you  ” letter. 
Neither  had  our  Happiest  Girl  been  to  school; 
so  this  letter  writing  business  was  a difficult 
one,  because,  if  you  remember,  the  Happiest 
Girl  in  Korea  had  had  both  hands  and  one  foot 
removed.  To-day,  as  she  sat  gravely  before 
a little  table  on  the  floor  of  the  “ Salvation 
for  all  Women  ” Hospital,  in  the  city  of 
Seoul,  Korea,  she  wrinkled  her  brow  and 
frowned  repeatedly,  for  the  pencil  would 
slip  and  the  letters  would  not  keep  straight 
in  line  as  they  ought  to  do.  It  took  a long 
while  to  do  it,  but  one  letter  was  at  last  finished. 

It  was  quite  a long  letter,  fully  a yard  long, 
written  up  and  down  the  page,  from  left  to 
right,  in  Korean  style.  The  whole  of  its  con- 
tents we  would  like  to  give,  but  a little  bit  will 
have  to  do.  So  here  goes  for  a little  piece 
of  it : — 

“The  land  of  Tai  Han  (Korea),  foreign 
third  moon,  first  day  (March  i),  1910. 

“To  our  loving  Pou-in: 


20  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

“ Are  you  in  health  in  the  midst  of  God’s 
grace,  and  is  all  your  household  well?  As  for 
Oak-pun-ie,  now  baptized  Anna  Song,  she  is 
still  living  in  the  land  of  Tai  Han,  and  is  try- 
ing to  wear  the  goodness  of  the  Heavenly 
Father,  and  has  nothing  of  which  to  com- 
plain” 

Three  lines  of  this  letter  you  will  see  in  the 
Korean  characters.  The  “ thank  you  ” part 
there  is  not  space  to  print. 

The  letter  finished,  Oak-pun-ie  rests  a 
while,  for  it  had  to  be  written  with  a lead 
pencil  tied  securely  between  two  handless  arms, 
and  keeping  it  steady  was  not  an  easy  task. 

While  resting,  the  nurse  came  to  her : 
“ Well,  child,  how  are  you  getting  along?  ” 

“ Oh,”  answered  the  Happiest  Girl,  “ there’s 
one  done.  Can  the  lady  read  it,  do  you 
think  ? ” 

The  nurse  took  the  letter,  slightly  turned 
her  back,  and  used  her  handkerchief  freely. 
It  is  a strange  thing,  but  somehow,  when  folks 
look  at  our  Happiest  Girl  and  talk  to  her,  note 
the  affliction,  yet  see  the  sweet  face  ever  beam- 
ing, it  makes  a lump  in  the  throat,  and  water 
comes  to  the  eyes,  and  folks  use  their  hand- 
kerchiefs, when  Oak-pun-ie  isn’t  looking.  The 
nurse  read  the  letter,  which  was  really  written 
very  well,  better  than  many  written  by  those 
who  have  hands. 

“ Why,  yes,  Anna  ” (for  we  must  now  call 
Oak-pun-ie  by  her  baptized  name),  “ it’s  beau- 
tifully done  ” — Anna’s  face  beamed — “ but 
would  you  not  better  stop  for  to-day  ? ” 

“ Well,”  said  Anna,  “ there’s  another  one 


The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea  21 

to  write  for  that  beautiful  silk  quilt  sent  by 
the  other  ladies.” 

“ Oh,”  remonstrated  the  nurse,  “ but  you 
must  leave  some  for  another  day ; and  besides, 
it’s  time  for  your  ride  outside.  It’s  cold,  but 
splendid  and  clear.  Come,  now,  let’s  have  the 
ride,  then  dinner,  then  a little  rest”  (for  our 
Anna  has  never  been  very  strong),  “ and  then, 
if  you  feel  well  enough,  you  may  go  into  the 
dispensary  a little  while,  the  doctor  says.” 
Anna’s  face  beamed;  she  was  once  more  the 
Happiest  Girl. 

“ Oh,  I’m  so  glad,”  she  said.  “ I was  afraid 
the  doctor  would  not  let  me  go  to  the  poor, 
heathen  people,  to-day.  I thought  if  I wrote 
my  letter  she  would  say  that  was  enough.” 

“ No,”  said  the  nurse.  “ She  just  told  me 
if  you  would  stop  now,  take  your  ride  and 
rest  a little  after  dinner,  you  might  go  into 
the  dispensary,  for  the  Bible  woman  will  have 
to  leave  early  to-day  and  the  doctor  would 
like  to  have  you  there  with  the  people.” 

While  Anna  is  getting  ready  for  her  trip, 
suppose  we  take  a peep  outside  at  the  beautiful 
wheel  chair  sent  by  a dear  mother  in  America 
whose  daughter  had  been  cured  of  what 
seemed  to  be  permanent  invalidism,  and  whose 
grateful  heart  had  prompted  the  sending  of  the 
wheel  chair  to  Oak-pun-ie,  whose  story  she  had 
read  in  the  little  leaflet,  “ The  Happiest  Girl 
in  Korea.”  The  chair  is  strongly  built,  light 
in  weight,  small  in  size  but  plenty  big  enough 
for  Anna,  and  no  millionaire  of  America  was 
ever  prouder  of  his  handsome  touring  car  than 
our  afflicted  girl  is  of  her  wheel  chair. 


22  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

Soon  she  was  seated  in  it,  warmly  clad  and 
covered  with  a beautiful  silk  quilt  which  had 
been  made  by  a lady  in  America  for  missionary 
purposes  and  bought  by  a district  convention 
to  be  sent  to  the  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea.  The 
ride  over,  her  dinner  was  served  by  the  nurse, 
who  had  to  do  part  of  the  feeding,  then  came 
a rest  on  her  white  bed  (which  is  supported 
by  a Bible  class  in  an  Eastern  state),  and 
once  more  we  find  Anna  seated  in  a corner  of 
the  hospital  dispensary,  surrounded  by  a room 
full  of  open-mouthed,  wide-eyed  women, 
mostly  heathen,  from  surrounding  districts. 

Amidst  the  crying  of  suffering  babies  and 
the  amazed  questions  constantly  poured  forth 
by  her  audience,  Anna  deftly  turned  pages  in 
her  Bible  with  her  arms  and  found  the  chapter 
she  loved  most  of  all,  “ I.  John,  4.”  She  read 
to  the  verse  on  which  she  intended  to  dwell 
that  day,  the  seventh : “ Beloved,  let  us  love 
one  another,  for  love  is  of  God,  and  every  one 
that  loveth  is  born  of  God  and  knoweth  God.” 
Beginning  with  the  story  of  her  suffering  early 
life  our  Anna  told  these  poor,  ignorant  women 
of  the  love,  the  care,  the  help,  the  protection 
and  the  joy  that  had  been  hers  within  the  walls 
of  this  little  hospital  of  the  Woman's  Foreign 
Missionary  Society. 

“ My!  ” said  one.  “ That’s  funny.  If  those 
Christian  doctors  took  off  her  hands  and  her 
foot,  yet  let  her  live  and  treat  her  this  way, 
and  have  given  her  all  this  learning,  all  because 
they  belong  to  the  God,  Jesus  Christ,  there  is 
something  in  their  religion  that  isn’t  like  any 
other  we  ever  had  in  Korea.” 


The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea  23 

“ Yes/’  answered  the  woman  beside  her.  “ I 
wonder  why  they  didn’t  take  the  knife  they 
used  to  cut  off  her  hands,  and  put  it  through 
her  heart  It  would  have  saved  them  lots  of 
trouble  and  lots  of  expense.” 

“ Well,  it’s  a funny  religion,  anyhow;  but 
look  at  her  talking,  see  how  her  eyes  shine  and 
her  cheeks  are  round  and  healthy.  She  hasn’t 
any  hands,  and  only  one  foot,  but  I declare 
she  is  happier  than  any  of  us  here,  who  have 
them  all.” 

“ I believe  this  religion  is  about  the  best  of 
all.  What’s  that  she’s  saying?  I didn’t  catch 
it.” 

“ Listen,”  said  her  companion,  “ she’s  say- 
ing it  again.”  And  they  listened. 

“ Women  of  Korea,”  rang  out  the  clear- 
toned  voice  of  our  Happy  Girl,  “ it  was  be- 
cause he  loved  you,  this  God — Jesus  Christ 
— that  he  came  to  this  earth  and  gave  up  his 
own  life  for  you.  When  you  go  to  the  Chris- 
tian church  and  kneel  down  and  pray  to  the 
Father  in  Heaven  in  the  name  of  this  Jesus, 
saying  you  are  sorry  for  all  the  wickedness 
you  have  ever  done,  and  all  that  is  in  your 
heart,  and  tell  him,  too,  that  the  wicked  heart 
in  your  side  here  is  heavy  like  a stone  because 
of  your  sins,  and  tell  him  you  want  him  to 
take  it  away,  he  will  do  it.  He  will  make  it 
all  white  and  clean,  and  it  will  feel  as  if  there 
were  feathers  in  place  of  the  stone,  and  you, 
too,  will  always  be  happy  while  you  live;  and 
when  you  die  he  will  take  you  to  live  with 
himself  and  with  the  Christ  in  a beautiful  home 
he  has  made  for  you,  and  all  the  sickness  will 


24  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

be  gone.  O women,  come  and  pray  to-day! 
Go  to  the  churches  if  you  can,  but  if  you  can- 
not, pray  here  and  now,  and  the  Father  will 
wash  your  hearts  right  now  while  you  pray, 
and  there  will  be  peace  always  and  joy  for- 
evermore. Come,  women,  Jesus  is  waiting. 
Kneel  down  and  pray  while  I sing.”  And  with 
a voice  like  a bell,  our  Anna  sang  the  song  she 
loved  best, 

“ What  can  wash  away  my  sin  ? 

Nothing  but  the  blood  of  Jesus. 

What  can  make  me  pure  within  ? 

Nothing  but  the  blood  of  Jesus.” 

The  song  ceased,  and  all  over  the  room  the 
poor,  ignorant  women,  side  by  side  with  women 
from  the  ranks  of  the  nobility,  wiped  tear-wet 
eyes  as  they  cried  out,  “ We  will  come  to-mor- 
row. Tell  us  some  more.  Sing  it  again.” 
Again  and  again  verses  of  hymn  after  hymn 
rang  out  from  the  voice  that  never  seems  to 
tire,  and  finally,  as  the  shadows  deepened  and 
the  doctor  called  the  last  patient  into  the  con- 
sulting room — for  all  this  had  been  going  on 
while  the  doctor  was  treating  the  patients — 
the  girl  rose  on  her  one  foot,  standing  with 
crutches  under  her  arms,  and  called  out, 
“ Raise  your  hands,  you  who  want  to  know 
the  Christ  better.”  And  as  the  hands  were 
raised  here  and  there  over  the  room  Anna 
bowed  her  head  and  said : “ Dear  Jesus,  here 
are  some  more.  They  are  tired  and  weary  and 
they  want  to  know  about  you.  Help  them 
now,  and  teach  them  soon,  as  you  have  taught 
me.  Amen.” 


The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea  25 

A nurse  appeared  in  the  doorway,  saying, 
“ Anna,  it’s  time  to  go  back  for  supper,”  and 
led  her  away.  In  the  hospital  ward  came 
supper,  a few  words  with  the  doctor,  and 
evening  prayer,  and  then,  in  her  white  night- 
dress, our  Happy  Girl  slept;  while  the  doctor, 
leaning  over  the  neat  white  bed,  said,  “ Dear 
one,  there  will  be  more  souls  for  your  work 
than  for  that  of  any  preacher  in  the  land  of 
Korea.  May  God  bless  you,  dear  child,  and 
keep  you  always  near  to  him.” 

The  next  day  the  other  “ thank  you  ” letter 
was  written;  and  so  Anna’s  life  goes  on,  day 
after  day,  in  peace  and  content.  She  has  her 
days  of  trial  and  even  of  suffering,  yet,  for 
her  constitution  will  never  be  a strong  one; 
but  we  would  say  to  those  who  love  our  Hap- 
piest Girl  in  Korea  that  we  do  not  ask  them 
for  anything  further, — no  more  wheel  chairs, 
silk  quilts,  or  support,  for  all  these  things  have 
been  given  in  sufficient  quantity  for  our  Anna. 
We  would  say  to  them,  however,  that  in  the 
great  land  of  Korea  there  are  living  thousands 
of  girls  who  need  the  same  care  that  Anna 
has  had  in  this  hospital ; girls  who,  if  they  had 
had  the  same  chance,  would  to-day  be  repeat- 
ing the  same  story  with  a happy  heart. 

May  we  ask  you  who  read  this  sequel  to 
“ The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea  ” to  remember 
the  thousands  of  girls,  who  will  be  happy  ones, 
too,  if  you  Christians  of  America  help  to  make 
them  so. 

“ Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of 
the  least  of  these , my  brethren,  ye  have  done 
it  unto  me” 


Ill 


THE  KOREAN  BABY  THINKS 

NYAH,  Nyah,  Wo-oo-o!  It  seems  to 
me  all  this  noise  don’t  do  any  good! 
Guess  I’ll  stop  and  think ! Wonder 
why  I cry  this  way  so  much ! Maybe  it  is  be- 
cause something  bites  me  now  and  then;  funny 
little  brown  things,  sometimes  black  ones. 
They  run  across  my  face  and  I holler,  but  no- 
body bothers.  Wish  there  wasn’t  any  black 
or  brown  things  to  bite ! 

Am  four  months  old  now,  and  a “ girl,”  I 
heard  them  say  it  again  to-day.  Say,  I won- 
der what  a “ girl  ” is,  anyway.  Don’t  believe 
it  is  anything  very  nice,  for  when  I was  only 
a day  old  and  felt  awfully  little,  and  weak,  and 
funny,  I heard  my  father  (that’s  the  man  who 
comes  in  here  sometimes),  say  to  my  mother 
(that’s  the  woman  that  feeds  me  and  holds  me 
tight  when  nobody’s  looking,  and  drops  water 
out  of  her  eyes  on  my  face  often),  well,  I 
heard  my  father  say,  “ too  bad  she’s  a girl ; ” 
then  my  mother  squeezed  me  close  and  said, 
“ Yes,  but  she’s  nice  and  pretty,  and  ours.” 
“ Yes,”  said  my  father,  “ but  she  will  have  to 
be  named  ‘ Sup-sup-ie  (Disappointment)  and 
she  won’t  count  for  anything  in  this  family. 
Girls  never  do.  It’s  pretty  hard  for  a man  to 
have  a first  child  only  a girl,”  and  he  went  out 
with  his  eyes  all  wrinkled  up.  After  he  was 
26 


YOU  CAN’T  SEE  ME” 


The  Korean  Baby  Thinks  27 

gone,  my  mother  took  me  in  her  arms  and  I 
felt  the  first  one  of  those  wet  splashes  on  my 
face,  and  I hollered,  but  stopped  soon,  because 
my  mother  pressed  my  face  against  hers. 
Then, — I didn’t  mind  the  wet! 

That  was  the  first  time,  but  it  has  often 
splashed  since,  most  often  splashes  when  my 
father  comes  in  and  looks  at  me.  He  looks 
so  nice  when  he  first  looks  at  me, — he  don’t 
wrinkle  his  eyes  and  I laugh  at  him  (for  he 
never  hurts  me),  sometimes  he  chucks  my  chin, 
and  then  all  of  a sudden  if  my  grandmother 
comes  in  he  straightens  up  and  mutters,  “ but 
she  is  only  a girl ! ” Wonder  what  a “ girl  ” 
is  anyhow.  I don’t  like  that  word  or  “ Sup- 
sup-ie  ” either,  because  my  grandmother  calls 
me  both  and  frowns  at  me.  My  mother  never 
calls  me  these  words;  she  says,  “ Cho-hoon- 
Ag-gie  ” (that  means  “good  baby”)  and  I 
like  that  best. 

Do  you  know  my  grandmother  would  be 
real  nice  if  she  wouldn’t  say  “ girl  ” and  “ Sup- 
sup-ie  ” and  frown.  Sometimes  when  I cry 
she  puts  me  against  her  shoulder,  and  it’s  so 
big  and  broad  and  warm,  and  I cuddle  close 
and  she  squeezes  me  sort  of  tight,  but  it 
doesn’t  last  long,  ’cause  she  says  those  two 
words  again,  “ girl,”  and  “ Sup-sup-ie,”  and 
puts  me  down  and  then  goes  and  slaps  my 
mother  for  just  doing  nothing  at  all.  Well, 
I’m  getting  tired  of  thinking — guess  I’ll  holler 
again — no,  I won’t,  I’ll-go-to-sleep.  Wish-I- 
wasn’t-a-g-i-r-1 ! 


And  the  baby  slept. 


28  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

It’s  been  a long  time  since  I thought  for 
you  folks  to  read,  but  I couldn’t  help  it. 
There’s  been  such  strange  things  going  on  at 
our  house.  I am  one  year  old  to-day,  and  I 
had  an  awful  funny  birthday,  but  I guess  I’ll 
have  to  go  way  back  in  my  past  life  to  tell 
you  about  that.  Just  a little  while  after  I 
thought  for  you  before,  a Korean  woman  came 
to  our  house.  She  had  with  her  another  per- 
son, all  white  in  the  face,  and  on  her  hands, 
and  dressed  in  such  funny  clothes.  They  said 
she  was  a “ for-eign-er  ” and  a “ miss-ionary,” 
whatever  that  is?  She  talked  to  me  in  our 
language,  real  soft  like;  she  talked  to  my 
grandmother,  too;  and  the  other  woman  talked 
to  my  mother,  and  when  they  went  away, 
grandma  said,  “ All  right,  I’ll  go  and  take  her,” 
pointing  to  my  mother. 

The  next  day  there  was  an  awful  fuss  at 
our  house.  You  see  my  mother  carries  me  on 
her  back  when  she  does  her  work,  but  this 
day  I got  fairly  dizzy.  She  ran  in  and  out 
our  low  door  so  often  and  so  fast  that  I 
thought  my  poor  head  would  roll  off  or  get 
bumped  off  in  the  doorway,  but  mothers  are 
always  careful , and  I didn’t  get  bumped!  I 
just  cuddled  close  to  her  shoulder  and  went 
to  sleep,  and  when  I woke  she  was  all  over 
her  work,  but  as  usual  grandmother  was  scold- 
ing. She  said,  “ It’s  all  a piece  of  foolishness 
anyway,  but  that  woman  coaxed  so,  and  it 
will  be  a fine  4 Ku-gyung  ’ (a  ‘ look-see  ’)  so 
guess  we’ll  go.”  And  then  my  mother  got 
her  big  green  coat  and  put  it  on,  with  me 
underneath,  and  here  we  are  again,  only  you 


The  Korean  Baby  Thinks  29 

can’t  see  me,  because  I’m  under  the  coat  and 
asleep. 

When  I woke  up  we  were  in  the  strangest 
place,  with  lots  of  women  and  other  babies, — 
thought  I’d  cry  at  first  but  none  of  the  rest 
did,  so  I just  looked. 

It  was  a big  place,  the  white  lady  was  sit- 
ting at  a funny  box,  and  the  box  made  a funny 
noise,  and  the  people  tried  to  make  a noise  like 
the  box,  and  then  all  the  people  made  a noise 
out  of  a book.  A book  is  a funny  thing,  too. 
Then  a man  all  white-faced  like  the  woman  got 
up  and  talked  and  talked,  and  I went  to  sleep. 

When  I awoke,  we  were  home,  where  grand- 
mother was  quiet  and  gentle  all  the  rest  of  the 
day,  and  mother  seemed  happy,  too.  Father 
came  in  and  said  he  had  been  in  the  big  place, 
too,  on  the  other  side  of  the  curtain.  He  said 
he  thought  he  would  “ do  the  doctrine,”  what- 
ever that  means.  Said  the  white  man  had  told 
him  a lot  about  a man  named  Jesus.  Then 
after  father  said  that,  mother  picked  me  up 
and  said  in  my  ear,  so  that  nobody  heard,  only 
me,  “ That’s  it,  Baby,  they  sung  that  to-day, 
‘ Jesus  loves  ’ and  the  white  woman  said,  ‘ He 
loves  women  and  girls.’  Oh,  I’m  so  glad ! ” 
And  she  squeezed  me  tight,  but  no  water 
splashed  on  my  face  that  time.  Her  eyes  only 
shone  pretty  and  bright. 

Now  it’s  all  different  from  what  it  used  to 
be.  Our  house  looks  different.  The  black  and 
brown  things  that  used  to  bite  don’t  come 
around  any  more.  They  called  them  roaches 
and  bugs,  but  I never  see  them  now.  Then 
again  I smell  all  the  time  of  stuff  they  call 


30  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

“ soap  and  water,”  and  feel  nice,  and  to-day, 
my  birthday,  when  we  went  to  that  big  build- 
ing the  white  man  took  me  up  in  his  arms  and 
I wasn’t  afraid;  I just  grabbed  his  moustache 
and  patted  his  white  face.  That  white  didn’t 
come  off  on  my  hands  either!  My  hands  are 
brown.  Then  he  put  water  on  my  head  and 
gave  me  back  to  my  mother.  And  my  father 
took  me  in  his  arms  when  we  got  home  and 
said,  “ Little  Pokie  now.”  And  that  means 
“ blessing.”  And  grandma  picked  me  up  lots 
to-day  and  said,  “ Pokie,  from  Hah-na-nin  ” 
(blessing  from  “ God.”)  My!  that’s  a whole 
lot  nicer  than  being  a “ girl  ” and  a “ Sup- 
sup-ie  ” (disappointment). 


NOW  IT  LOOKS  DIFFERENT  AT  OUR  HOUSE 


IV 


UNDER  THE  CROSS  OF  GOLD 

« T^AULINE,  wait  a moment !”  The 
I girl’s  long  lashes  were  lifted  as  she 
turned  and  looked  steadily  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  speaker.  No  ray  of  intelligence 
gleamed  in  the  sightless  eyes ; only  in  the  quick 
turn  of  the  head  and  the  changing  expression 
of  the  sensitive  mouth  could  one  detect  a lis- 
tener. 

“ Pauline,  are  your  classes  over  for  the 
day?” 

“ Yes,  Wee  won  (Doctor)  all  have  become  ” 
(a  Korean  expression  much  used). 

“ Did  the  children  do  well  ? ” 

44  Fairly  well,  but  ” — a pause — “ not  so  well 
as  if  there  were  more  of  the  * chacks  ’ (books). 
I ask  pardon,  4 Pou-in  ’ (lady)  for  complain- 
ing, but  it’s  so  hard  to  have  them  all  study 
from  the  few  books  and  all  do  well.” 

44  Yes,  I know,”  sighed  the  missionary  physi- 
cian, 44  but  we  must  wait,  the  money  to  make 
31 


32  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

the  boo^s  is  not  at  hand,  and  I am  so  busy  all 
the  time  I wish  there  was  another  here  who 
understood  the  blind  system  of  reading.  But  ” 
— more  hopefully — “you  have  learned  and  all 
the  others  will  learn  sometime.  One  of  the 
Master’s  lessons  is  that  of  patience  in  the  great 
work  of  teaching  a new  Korea  all  that  is  good. 
W e would  hurry,  but  ” — softly — “ he  knows 
the  lack  of  workers  and  material,  and  we  will 
wait  his  help  for  the  Korean  school  for  the 
blind,  as  well  as  the  one  for  deaf  mutes.  It’s 
his  work,  it  must  prosper. 

“ But,  dear  me,  here  I am  in  such  a hurry, 
and  yet  I have  kept  talking  and  have  not  asked 
you  if  you  would  like  to  go  with  me  on  a little 
journey  into  the  South  District?  I must  go 
to  visit  a station  and  shall  start  to-morrow  at 
daybreak.  I have  decided  to  take  you  with  me 
if  you  care  to  take  the  journey,  Pauline.  It’s 
going  to  be  a hard  one,  we  shall  go  in  chairs, 
but  the  roads  are  rough  and  you  may  get  quite 
tired.  What  do  you  say,  child,  do  you  care 
to  go  ? ” 

“ Oh!  Doctor,  ‘ kau-mop-sim-ne-ta  ’ (thank 
you  very  much)  ; of  course  I will  go.  Why, 
that  will  be  near  Poo-na’s  and  Cha-nie’s 
home ! ” 

“ Yes,  and  if  we  have  time  we  will  go  to 
call  on  their  parents.  Well,  get  some  one  to 
take  your  classes  while  you  are  gone,  perhaps 
Prudence  can  do  so;  and,  Pauline,  be  sure  to 
take  a book  or  two  with  you,  for  your  studies 
must  not  suffer  because  of  the  journey.  We 
will  be  gone  five  days,  so  I must  get  the  other 
doctor  to  take  the  work  here.  Now  go  and 


Under  the  Cross  of  Gold  33 

be  ready  by  six  in  the  morning,  and  oh ! Pau- 
line, send  the  gateman  to  me.  He  must  send 
for  the  chair-bearers  and  pony-man  for  our 
load.” 

“Nay,  nay,  Pou-in  ” (yes,  yes,  lady),  an- 
swered the  girl  as  the  Doctor  turned  and  en- 
tered her  study  door.  Almost  one  would  think 
the  blind  eyes  did  see,  for  straight  as  an  arrow, 
with  hands  outstretched,  the  blind  girl  left  the 
room,  passing  by  the  hall  leading  into  the  Edith 
Margaret  Memorial  Children’s  Ward  of  the 
Pyeng  Yang  Woman’s  Hospital.  Going 
through  the  second  hall,  she  sighed  a little ; low 
moans  of  pain  came  to  her  mingled  with  a 
suppressed  shout  of  laughter  telling  how  dear 
little  Korean  children  lying  in  the  ward  were 
feeling  at  that  time.  Some  in  pain  that  medi- 
cine could  not  relieve,  moaning  unconsciously 
even  though  they  slept ; others  better  in  health, 
laughing  as  children  do  when  food,  care,  and 
love  be  given  them. 

“ My,”  thought  the  girl,  “ how  will  the  Doc- 
tor ever  get  through  to-day  and  get  away  to- 
morrow. I wish  I could  help  her  more.  Oh! 
how  good  she  is  to  us  all ! I wonder  why  she 
ever  cared  to  take  us  blind  and  deaf  folk  in 
when  there  was  so  much  to  do.  Well,  I’m  go- 
ing to  study  hard  and  teach  the  little  girls  and 
help  lots.  But,  oh ! I must  tell  them  now  that 
I am  going  with  the  Doctor.” 

“ Poo-na,  Chii-nie,”  she  called,  as  she 
reached  the  room  so  familiar  to  her.  “ Oh ! 
girls,  I am  going  away  with  the  Doctor  to- 
morrow down  near  your  home;  we  may  go  to 
your  house.  Would  you  like  to  go  ? ” 


34  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

“ No,”  chorused  the  two  blind  girls  who 
came  at  her  call,  “ no,  not  we ; time  enough  to 
go  when  vacation  comes.  This  will  do  for  us, 
thank  you.  Tell  ‘ au-mo-nie  ’ and  4 apa-che  ’ 
(mother  and  father)  that  this  is  a good  place 
to  be.” 

“ And  say,  Pauline,”  whispered  Cha-nie, 
edging  closer,  “ do  try  to  get  my  parents  to 
give  you  their  ‘ fetiches/  You  know  they  do 
believe  in  Jesus,  but  they  are  just  a little  fear- 
ful of  destroying  the  offerings  to  the  spirits; 
maybe  they  will  let  the  Doctor  do  it.  You  tell 
her  to  try,  will  you  not  ? ” 

“ Why,  yes,”  soberly  answered  Pauline. 
“ I’ll  tell  her.  When  do  your  parents  get  bap- 
tized? ” 

“ About  four  months  from  now,”  answered 
Poo-na,  the  other  sister,  “ when  we  go  home 
for  vacation,  but  of  course  if  they  don’t  get 
the  4 fetiches  ’ destroyed  the  4 Mok-sah  ’ 
(Pastor)  won’t  baptize  them.  But  Doctor  and 
you  can  do  it  if  we  pray  for  you.” 

“ All  right.  I must  go  now  to  see  Prudence, 
and  get  ready;  it  will  soon  be  supper  time. 
You  tell  the  others  of  our  trip.” 

While  the  girls  are  off  attending  to  these 
things  we  will  learn  a little  more  about  them. 
Pauline  was  seventeen  years  of  age;  five  years 
ago  she  had  been  brought  to  Dr.  H.  at  the 
Pyeng  Yang  Hospital  by  a Bible  woman. 
Born  of  heathen  parents,  blind  from  early 
childhood,  just  when  the  parents  were  about 
to  sell  her  to  the  life  of  a sorceress,  the  only 
life  ever  given  a blind  girl  in  Korea,  they  were 
persuaded  to  give  her  to  the  missionaries,  and 


THE  BLIND  GIRLS  OF  THE  SCHOOL,  1909 


Under  the  Cross  of  Gold  35 

the  Bible  woman  hurried  the  girl  to  Dr.  H., 
who  had  started  a school  for  the  blind  in  con- 
nection with  the  hospital  in  Pyeng  Yang.  Pau- 
line had  always  been  a lovable  child  with  but 
one  fault.  For  years  an  intangible  fear  seemed 
at  times  to  possess  her.  Converted  a year  after 
she  entered  the  school  she  was  truly  Christian, 
yet  at  times  the  old  weird  sayings  she  had  heard 
from  birth  about  the  “ non-seeing  ” being  made 
so  by  the  “ spirits  ” in  order  that  they  could 
best  serve  the  spirits  as  sorceresses,  for,  since 
they  could  see  nothing,  they  would  have  minds 
free  for  spirit  worship.  Of  course  Pauline  did 
not  believe  this,  but  for  twelve  years  the  “ spir- 
its ” had  been  very  real  to  the  sightless  girl. 
For  five  years  Jesus  had  been  nearer,  but  the 
old  weird  feeling  at  times  had  troubled  her, 
and  many  a talk  this  good  Doctor  had  with 
the  girl  at  such  times,  calming,  quieting  with 
words  of  love  and  passages  from  the  Word 
of  Life.  And  so  Pauline  had  grown.  Nat- 
urally bright,  she  had  progressed  in  her  studies 
until  she  was  now  finishing  her  second  year 
in  the  highest  school  for  girls  under  the  Mis- 
sionary Boards  in  Pyeng  Yang,  Korea.  Two 
hours  a day  she  taught  the  younger  girls  in 
the  school.  The  conversation  with  the  Doctor 
had  taken  place  at  the  close  of  this  two  hours 
on  Monday,  during  the  month  of  April,  19 — . 

The  next  morning  dawned  clear,  and  outside 
the  door  of  the  low  native  buildings  that  served 
for  a hospital  under  the  Woman’s  Board  of 
the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  the  chair 
coolies,  four  in  number,  waited,  squatted  on 
the  ground;  pipes  lighted;  talking  in  sleepy 


36  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

tones.  Near  by  stood  the  pony  with  food  and 
bedding  for  the  Doctor,  and  Pauline  tightly 
strapped  to  his  little  brown  back.  A short 
strap  held  his  nose  to  a hitching  post,  and 
he  vented  his  displeasure  at  thus  being  so  early 
harnessed  and  put  to  work  by  frequent  vicious 
kicks  in  the  direction  of  the  lad  of  fifteen  who 
was  master  of  the  load  and  the  pony  en  route. 
The  kick  was  useless,  as  the  master  in  the  case 
knew  enough  to  stay  at  the  front  end  of  this 
kicking  “ baggage  car.” 

The  door  opened  and  the  Doctor  and  Pau- 
line appeared.  The  matron  of  the  hospital  led 
the  girl  to  her  chair  and  helped  her  in,  wish- 
ing her  a good  journey  in  cheery  tones.  The 
Doctor  gave  a dozen  directions  to  the  chair- 
men, and  with  a final  double  kick  by  the  al- 
ways indignant  pony  the  procession  started. 
Up  over  the  hill  and  out  through  the  level 
country,  sometimes  between  rows  of  pine  trees 
at  the  edge  of  the  woodlands,  again  travelling 
between  the  narrow  paths  of  the  rice  fields 
flooded  with  water,  the  chairmen  sure  of  foot 
and  steady  of  trot  jogged  along. 

And  once  while  the  chairmen  halted  for  a 
rest,  the  physician  took  the  girl’s  hand  and  led 
her  up  the  road  over  which  they  were  to 
travel.  Great  white  and  black  birds,  with  shrill 
calls  to  their  mates,  darted  hither  and  thither 
from  tree  to  tree,  watching  the  strange  un- 
known white-faced  woman  lead  her  charge 
along.  The  weather  was  delightful,  the  soft 
wind  in  the  pine  boughs  gave  out  a healthful 
odor,  all  was  peace  in  the  land,  just  as  God 
had  made  it,  and  intended  it  to  be. 


Under  the  Cross  of  Gold  37 

To  the  girl  the  journey  was  a delight  alto- 
gether beyond  words.  The  odor  of  the  winds, 
the  calls  of  the  birds,  the  songs  of  the  waving 
boughs,  even  the  weird  call  of  the  chairmen  as 
they  told  each  other  that  it  was  time  to  change 
shoulders  for  the  poles  of  the  chair,  all  seemed 
of  a different  world.  Now  as  the  Doctor  she 
loved  so  well  took  her  arm  and  led  her  on- 
ward, the  girl  shyly  spoke: 

“ Lady,  how  good  the  God  is  to  make  it  all, 
and  how  good  the  people  in  your  country  to 
care  for  us  blind  ones.  It  costs  a lot  of  money. 
Lady,  but  it’s  more  than  money,  it’s  that  they 
love  us.  Do  you  know,  Doctor,  Miss  R. 
showed  me  a little  gold  pin  the  other  day.  I 
felt  the  raised  cross  on  the  round  world,  and 
tried  to  pick  out  the  letters — Woman’s  For- 
eign Missionary  Society.  Miss  R.  said  that 
all  you  ladies  here  were  sent  out  to  us  by  that 
society.  It  seemed  so  nice,  all  of  us  in  this 
world  gathered  under  the  cross  of  Jesus.” 

“ Yes,”  said  the  Doctor  aloud,  “ all  of  us, 
all  of  us,  all  of  Korea  and  all  the  isles  of  the 
seas.”  Silently  her  heart  said,  “ O God,  how 
long,  how  long  until  it  shall  he  this  way  ? ” 

But  the  girl  was  speaking,  “ Tell  me,  Doctor, 
please,  how  did  you  get  us  blind  and  deaf  folk 
into  your  care  ? You  have  done  so  much  for  us 
all  when  you  had  nothing  but  the  wards  of  the 
hospital  for  our  beds,  study  rooms,  etc.  Of 
course  it’s  fun  sometimes  to  squeeze  close  to- 
gether when  there’s  lots  of  sick  folks  and  all 
the  beds  are  needed.  Even  squeezing  together 
on  the  floor  is  not  so  bad,  but  when — there.  I’ll 
stop  now;  I’m  only  troubling  you.  I’m  sure 


38  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

I don’t  mean  to  complain.  We’re  happy 
enough;  don’t  look  so  sad,  Pou-in;  you  know 
we  are  happy  just  to  be  with  you,  because  you 
love  us.  You  know  that,  don’t  you,  Pou-in?” 

“ Well,  Pauline,  I know  you  love  me  and 
are  not  complaining,  but  let  me  explain  how 
it  is  with  the  Society  that  wears  the  badge 
of  the  little  golden  world  under  the  cross. 
Both  of  these  schools  were  started  by  myself 
with  money  personal  friends  gave  me.  The 
ladies  of  the  Society  had  many  things  to  sup- 
port, and  they  had  not  enough  money  to  build 
the  building  and  take  your  school  and  that  of 
the  deaf  and  dumb  girls  as  a regular  part  of 
their  great  work.  However,  this  has  been  done 
since,  and  now  you  are  all  a part  of  the  regular 
appropriation,  so  that  you  really  belong  in  that 
little  gold  world. 

“ I did  not  care  to  have  them  independent 
schools,  supported  by  special  gifts,  for  if  I 
should  have  been  taken  away  some  one  else 
might  not  get  money  enough  and ” 

“ Then,  Pou-in,”  said  the  girl,  “ we  and  the 
deaf  girls  are  really  part  of  the  Society  that 
wears  the  badge  Miss  R.  let  me  handle,  even 
though  we  have  no  building  of  our  own?  ” 

“ Oh,  yes,  Pauline,  and  the  ladies  love  you, 
and  do  all  they  can  for  you.  The  money  for 
the  school  buildings  has  not  yet  come,  but,” 
more  cheerfully,  “ it  will  come  if  we  pray  and 
hope  and  wait.”  The  face  of  the  blind  Pau- 
line was  not  so  radiant.  She  didn’t  just  see 
how  praying  and  hoping  and  waiting  was  go- 
ing to  bring  money  for  buildings,  if  somebody 
did  not  do  something. 


Under  the  Cross  of  Gold  39 

But  she  answered,  “ Of  course  they  must 
love  us,  to  support  us  this  way,  when  our  own 
people  are  afraid  of  us,  think  we  have  evil 
spirits  in  us,  and  don’t  even  love  us.  Yes  ” — 
slowly — “ they  love  us  and  that’s  a whole  lot, 
that’s  the  most  of  it,  only  the  blind  and  deaf 
and  dumb  know  just  how  good  it  is  to  be  loved 
and  cared  for.  ' Seeing  folks  ’ will  never  know 
just  precisely  what  it  is  to  be  loved  as  the  blind 
know.  I guess  nobody  knows  but  God.  Do 
you  remember  when  I was  a little  girl  you 
told  me  God  cared  and  God  knew  how  my 
heart  wanted  love  ? ” The  Doctor  nodded, 
then  she  remembered  Pauline  could  not  see  the 
nod,  and  answered  gently,  “ I remember.” 
The  girl  slipped  her  hand  into  that  of  the 
Doctor,  and  with  a little  pressure  said  gently, 
“ I know  it  myself  now.  He  tells  me  in  my 
heart.” 

Again  in  the  chairs,  the  journey  completed, 
the  town  reached,  food  and  sleep  for  two 
nights  and  days,  and  it  was  the  third  day. 
Pauline  had  played  the  little  baby  organ,  sung 
hymns,  and  given  exhibitions  of  her  proficiency 
in  reading,  arithmetic,  etc.,  to  admiring 
heathen,  and  now  our  friends  are  seated  in 
the  home  of  the  parents  of  Poo-na  and  Cha-nie 
Kim. 

The  Doctor’s  face  was  beaming,  Pauline’s 
radiant.  In  the  hands  of  the  Doctor  was  a 
small  crash  bag.  It  was  about  the  size  of  a 
Korean  pillow,  twelve  by  six  inches.  It  was 
full  of  rice  sewed  into  the  crash  and  offered 
to  the  household  gods  at  the  last  worshipping 
time  about  one  year  ago.  It  had  lain  where  it 


40  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

was  protected,  but  the  aged  parents  of  the 
blind  Poo-na  and  Cha-nie  had  feared  to  destroy 
or  give  it  away.  Beside  this  the  Doctor  held 
a piece  of  grass  cloth  such  as  is  used  for 
clothing.  It,  too,  had  been  placed  at  the  house- 
hold shrine,  for  did  not  the  spirits  need 
clothes  in  the  spirit  world,  and  was  not  this 
the  best  of  grass  cloth,  enough  for  a jacket 
for  an  ordinary-sized  spirit?  But  we  trans- 
gress; the  Doctor  is  speaking: 

“ And  now  we  will  again  tell  Jesus  about 
it  all,  and  we  will  take  these  things  and  make 
use  of  them.  You  have  conquered  all  the  im- 
aginary spirits  and  need  fear  no  evil,  for  he 
is  with  you.”  Earnestly  the  Doctor  prayed, 
commending  these  parents  to  him  who  hath 
said,  “ I will  never  leave  thee  nor  forsake 
thee,” — “ It  is  I,  be  not  afraid.” 

As  they  rose  the  volume  of  song  rose  in 
triumph,  Pauline’s  strong  clear  voice  ringing 
out  above  the  Doctor’s  gentle  one,  and  the 
trembling  tones  of  the  parents, — 

“ What  can  wash  away  my  sins  ? 

Nothing  but  the  blood  of  Jesus.” 

When  the  two  had  left  the  home  the  Doctor 
looked  back  on  two  faces  on  which  the  blood 
of  the  Christ  had  left  his  greatest  gift,  Peace, 
settled  there  never  to  remove  while  they  trusted 
him. 

But  we  must  hasten,  the  Sabbath  is  coming, 
and  they  have  started  homeward.  The  many 
Christians  bade  farewell  and  begged  for  an- 
other visit  soon.  Pauline  exclaimed  as  they 


Under  the  Cross  of  Gold  41 

prepared  for  the  night,  “ Oh,  Doctor,  I’ve  left 
my  pillow  behind  in  Poo-na’s  home.”  This 
was  a dilemma,  the  native  inn  in  which  they 
must  rest  could  not  be  supposed  to  contain  a 
clean  pillow,  and  the  case  seemed  a pillowless 
one  for  the  luckless  Pauline,  when  a bright 
idea  struck  the  Doctor. 

“ Pauline,”  she  exclaimed,  “ get  the  bag  of 
rice  Poo-na’s  folks  gave  us,  the  ‘ quee-sen  * 
(spirit-offering),  it’s  just  the  size  of  the  pil- 
low, and  I was  going  to  have  the  rice  cooked 
anyway  on  our  journey,  so  use  it  to-night 
with  this  towel  for  a covering,  and  to-morrow 
you  shall  eat  the  rice  inside  if  you  care  to 
and  the  spirits  will  never  trouble  any  one 
again  from  that  bag.”  She  laughed  as  she 
said  this  from  very  joy  of  being  “ a worker 
together  with  God  ” to  defeat  the  only  spirit — 
Satan , the  destroyer  of  souls.  But  only  silence 
answered  her. 

Pauline  stood  perfectly  still  with  the  old 
weird  look,  intangible  fear,  coming  and  going 
in  her  face.  Could  she  do  it?  The  Doctor 
saw  at  once  that  the  early  childhood  teachings 
were  having  their  effect  once  more  in 
Pauline’s  life,  and  was  about  to  recall  her  sug- 
gestion when  something  whispered  to  her  to 
wait.  The  silence  was  profound ; Pauline 
stared  into  space  and  then  chokingly  gasped: 
“ I cannot,  oh ! I cannot,  Pou-in  ” — and  fled 
to  a corner  of  the  room  that  had  been  curtained 
off.  Hiding  behind  this  she  was  silent  once 
more.  The  Doctor,  troubled,  called  out  say- 
ing: 

“ Pauline,  never  mind,  dear,  you  need  not,” 


42  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

but  no  answer  came.  One  hour  passed.  The 
girl  that  knelt  behind  the  curtain  deep  in  the 
conflict  that  raged  in  her  heart  made  no  sound. 
Who  are  we  that  we  should  enter  the  inner 
precincts  of  a heart  that  seeks  amidst  a cloud 
of  superstitious  fear  to  penetrate  to  its  God? 
Only  this  much,  however,  we  learned  later. 

“ Jesus,  are  you  there?”  the  girlish  heart 
cried.  “ It  is  not  that  I do  not  love  you,  but 
that  I cannot  see  this  bag  that  was  once  given 
the  ‘ quee-sin.’  I cannot  see  it,  and  I fear 
it  and  don’t  like  to  touch  it,  and  yet  I ought 
to,  I know  I ought  to.”  Dry  sobs  shook  the 
tired  child-woman.  Visions  of  many  things 
came  and  went.  Satan  did  his  utmost,  but 
the  angels  were  watching  and  he  did  not  over- 
come. Suddenly  with  a sob  of  joy,  Pauline 
groped  her  way  between  the  curtains,  and  the 
watching  missionary  physician  saw  the  victory 
had  been  won. 

“ Is  it  all  right,  Pauline?  ” 

“ Yes,  Lady,  give  me  the  bag,  I’m  not 
afraid,”  and  that  night  she  slept  sweetly  on 
the  pillow  once  offered  the  “ quee-sin,”  but 
better  still,  next  day  at  her  own  request,  she 
was  permitted  to  take  the  rice  from  the  bag, 
prepare  it,  and  after  it  had  been  cooked  into 
“ pop  ” (cooked  rice  food)  ate  it  laughingly. 
After  dinner  she  asked  for  the  piece  of  grass 
cloth,  and  suggested  making  a jacket,  all  her- 
self, for  a poor  blind  girl,  a recent  acquisition 
at  the  school.  This  was  done,  but  who  can 
tell  in  words  the  cost  of  the  struggle  for  a 
heathen  born  blind  girl,  before  the  “ quee- 
sin  ” offering  became  to  her  only  a bag  of  rice 


Under  the  Cross  of  Gold  43 

and  a piece  of  cloth.  After  their  return  the 
Doctor  spoke  of  it  but  the  once. 

“ Why,  Pauline,  did  you  not  ask  me  to  help 
you  when  afraid  the  other  day.” 

“ Because,  Wee- won,  I wanted  to  conquer  it 
forever,  not  lean  on  you.  I could  not  do  this 
until  I prayed,  and  before  I went  out  to  ask 
you  for  the  bag,  I saw,” — the  voice  was 
dreamy  and  low, — “ Oh,  ‘ Wee-won,’  I saw 
Jesus  pointing  to  a little  gold  cross  with  the 
little  gold  world  under  it  and  I knew  that  he 
had  conquered,  and  I was  one  of  the  folks  of 
that  gold  world  under  the  cross  of  gold. 
That’s  it,  is  it  not,  Pou-in?  Just  conquering 
for  him , with  him , that’s  what  will  make  us 
here,  and  your  people  there,  have  a right  to 
be  bound  all  together  in  the  badge  of  the  little 
golden  world  under  the  golden  cross.  It’s  one 
with  Jesus.  Oh,  I’m  going  to  try  so  hard  to 
always  conquer  for  him,  with  him,  so  that  I 
can  be  worthy  to  be,  with  you,  a part  of  the 
little  gold  world  under  the  cross  of  gold.” 
Something  in  the  Doctor’s  throat  choked 
her.  She  finally  answered,  as  her  heart 
bounded  with  joy.  “ Bless  you,  dear,  that’s  it. 
Conquerors  for  him,  with  him,  that’s  what  he 
told  us  to  do;  that’s  what  it  has  meant  to  me 
to  come  to  your  country  as  a missionary.  I 
wanted  to  learn  even  as  I taught  you,  just 
how  to  be  a conqueror  for  him;  just  how  to 
be  made  worthy  to  work  under  his  cross  in  a 
dying  world.”  Then,  looking  up,  the  Doc- 
tor’s heart  spoke  to  its  Maker,  “ Even  so,  Mas- 
ter, for  so  it  has  been  good  in  thy  sight,  but 
have  patience,  I pray  thee,  until  all  at  home  in 


44  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

my  loved  America,  and  abroad  in  all  the  isles 
of  the  sea,  have  been  bound  yet  closer  in  the 
work  symbolized  by  the  golden  world  under 
the  cross  of  gold.  Hold  us  closer  then  until 
the  day  dawns  and  the  shadows  flee  away.” 
And  that  Doctor’s  heart  has  been  lighter  and 
the  work  been  brighter  since  the  visit  to  the 
South  District  with  a little  blind  maiden  of 
Pyeng  Yang,  Korea.  I know  it  has,  for  the 
Doctor  told  me  so. 


V 


“ONLY  A PRINCE  OF  KOREA” 

IT  was  winter.  The  streets  of  the  city  lay 
snow-laden,  glistening  in  the  sunshine, 
the  dull  appearance  of  the  houses 
changed  as  if  by  magic  to  dazzling  white  under 
the  mantle  of  “ King  Snow,”  whose  beautiful 
gift  clothes  city  and  country  alike.  The  city 
was  the  capital  of  the  little  country  long  known 
as  the  “ Hermit  Kingdom.”  Its  name  was 
“ Seoul  ” (Soul),  the  country’s  name  Korea,  or 
the  Land  of  the  Morning  Calm,  as  the  ancients 
called  it.  Much  of  interest  might  be  told  of 
this  quaint  old  city,  with  its  peculiar  looking 
white-clad  people  and  funny  straw-  or  tile- 
roofed  houses,  but  this  story  is  not  of  the 
country,  not  of  the  city,  not  of  the  people  as 
a whole,  but  of  one  small  lad,  who  was  born 
in  the  palace  of  Korea,  to  the  emperor  of 
Korea,  about  nine  years  before  this  twenty- 
fourth  of  December,  nineteen  hundred  and 

years  after  the  birth  of  our  Lord.  Not 

that  this  little  prince  knew  that  it  was  De- 
cember 24,  19 — . Not  he;  he  was  but  a little 
boy,  born  in  heathenism,  who  knew  not  the 
year  of  our  Lord — a boy  very  much  out  of 
humour  with  the  day.  It  had  been  decidedly 
stupid  that  day.  The  snow  was  everywhere; 
45 


46  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

he  was  only  allowed  to  roam  in  his  various 
apartments  and  to  go  outside  on  the  walls; 
of  course,  always  attended  by  those  three  of- 
ficials, his  special  guards,  dressed  according  to 
rank  in  various  fantastic  silken  garments. 
They  were  a nuisance;  sometimes  there  were 
more  of  them,  and  then  the  three  men  who 
always  cared  for  him  were  a bother  anyway. 
If  he  went  near  the  walls  they  told  him  that 
he  would  get  his  green  silk  “ tur-a-mack-i  ” 
(coat)  wet  with  the  snow,  and  if  he  stepped 
out  of  the  path,  they  said  his  silken  shoes 
would  be  spoiled:  it  was  a nuisance  to  be  a 
prince. 

There  had  been  a time  when  he  had  been 
allowed  to  go  out  of  the  private  gate  and  over 
in  the  next  compound;  that  was  fun,  especially 
when  the  American  soldiers  were  quartered 
there,  and  taught  him  football. 

It  was  pretty  nice,  too,  when  that  little 
American  boy  lived  there,  the  missionary’s 
son.  My ! how  he  had  envied  him  his  running 
around  all  alone,  and  the  good  times  he  had 
when  he  fell  in  the  snow  and  mud,  and  got  up 
and  laughed  and  brushed  it  off.  Well,  that 
was  all  over.  Since  the  other  nation  had  come 
into  Korea  the  private  gate  was  closed,  and  his 
walks  restricted  to  the  compound  surrounding 
the  building  in  which  the  imperial  household 
had  been  living  since  the  fire,  which  had  de- 
stroyed the  palace  some  months  before. 

There  was  another  palace  across  the  city, 
and  he  liked  that  best;  but  the  brave  stone 
dragons  guarding  the  entrance  had  nothing  to 
do  now  but  look  fierce  over  nothing,  for  the 


THE  BRAVE  STONE  DRAGONS  GUARDING  THE 


“ Only  a Prince  of  Korea  ” 


47 


palace  was  empty  save  for  caretakers.  How  he 
wished  he  were  emperor,  then  he  would  live 
there  and  do  as  he  pleased.  Not  that  he 
wanted  his  father  and  his  brother,  the  crown 
prince,  to  die;  oh,  no,  but  then  they  might; 
but  that  didn’t  help  him  out  to-day.  He 
wanted  something  new ; he  was  tired  of  every- 
thing. 

Finally  the  little  prince,  after  disconsolately 
wandering  around  the  spacious  apartments, 
filled  with  furniture,  hangings,  etc.,  partly  for- 
eign, mostly  Oriental,  but  luxurious  indeed, 
wandered  out  on  the  broad  veranda  and  gazed 
about  him.  Outside  the  wall  and  across  the 
street,  up  on  a small  hill,  was  the  brick  build- 
ing known  as  the  “ Ewa  Haktang  ” (girls’ 
school).  It  was  owned  by  a missionary 
board,  and  in  it  every  year  over  two  hundred 
girls  were  saved  from  heathenism,  and  learned 
the  Way  of  Happiness.  At  his  left  arose  the 
great  walls  of  the  new  palace,  now  being  con- 
structed to  replace  the  old.  Back  of  the  palace 
the  mountain  known  as  Nam  San  reared  its 
gigantic  bleak  top.  But  the  little  prince  cared 
for  none  of  this ; his  gaze  fondly  turned  to  the 
right,  to  that  little  compound  of  which  he 
could  see  the  whole — the  place  of  football  and 
the  happy  missionary  boy. 

One  of  the  officials  touched  him  on  the  shoul- 
der, and  suggested  that  it  was  cold  outside. 
The  little  prince  scowled.  “If  you  are  cold, 
go  in  the  house,”  he  answered.  Then  giving 
an  impatient  twist  to  his  back  hair,  and  a pull 
at  the  hair  ribbon  to  tighten  it,  he  ran  nimbly 
to  the  stone  wall,  and  brushing  the  snow  from 


48  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

the  top,  stood  silently  looking  into  the  com- 
pound of  the  new  “ Select  School  for  Aris- 
tocratic Young  Married  Women  of  Korea.” 
This  school  was  in  charge  of  a lady  from 
America.  The  place  had  been  leased  for  school 
purposes  by  the  emperor,  who  willingly  allowed 
the  missionary  to  assume  command  of  the  com- 
pound next  the  palace.  It  was  a very  safe 
arrangement.  Those  foreigners  minded  their 
own  affairs  and  were  harmless.  It  was  a relief 
to  have  the  school  there,  since  the  American 
soldiers  had  returned  to  their  own  country  and 
the  former  occupant  had  removed  his  family 
to  a new  house  across  the  city. 

But  we  are  wandering;  the  little  prince  is 
standing  in  the  cold  with  a much  disgusted 
“ personal  guard  ” behind  him, — three  men  and 
three  women,  vowing  in  their  hearts  that  if 
he  were  their  boy  they  would  thrash  him,  but 
as  he  was  not,  and  was  the  prince,  they  could 
do  nothing  but  frown  and  grumble  a little,  not 
too  loud,  however,  for  if  his  young  majesty 
chose  he  could  order  their  dismissal  not  only 
from  the  palace  grounds  but  from  the  earth 
as  well. 

But  our  little  prince  was  not  thinking  about 
these  folks;  his  mind  was  busy  along  other 
lines.  “ Let  me  see,”  he  said,  “ what  was  this 
I heard  about  a 4 Yea-su  Tan-ill-lall  ’ ? ” Yes, 
that  was  what  the  missionary  boy  had  talked 
of  a year  or  two  before  during  an  exchange 
of  boyish  confidences. 

That  day  came  about  this  time  in  the  year. 
All  those  “ Yea-su  ” (Jesus)  folks  knew  about 
it.  The  children  in  the  Yea-su  churches  had  a 


“ Only  a Prince  of  Korea  ” 49 

good  time  then.  Well,  he  was  a prince,  why 
couldn’t  he  have  one  of  those  days,  too? 

The  stone  wall  grew  cold  under  his  arms, 
as  he  thought  of  it.  Mutterings  from  the 
watchful  guards  behind  him  aroused  him  to 
action.  “ Here,  you  folks,  be  quiet,”  he  said, 
in  the  language  a prince  was  always  to  use 
to  his  hirelings.  “ Listen,  I am  going  to  speak 
to  the  Pou-in  (lady).  You  may  call  that  gate- 
man  going  across  the  compound.”  This  to  the 
biggest  official  with  the  loudest  voice. 

Perhaps  you  don’t  know  what  a “ com- 
pound ” is,  or  what  a “ gateman  ” may  be  like. 
We  will  hasten  to  explain,  while  the  big  of- 
ficial is  straining  his  voice  to  call  the  white- 
clad  gateman,  who  is  hurrying  on  some  im- 
portant errand  for  the  foreign  lady.** 

A “ compound  ” in  Korea  is  a piece  of 
ground  usually  with  one  or  more  buildings  on 
it,  walled  in  by  high  stone  walls,  pierced  by  a 
single  gate,  shut  in  from  the  streets  with  its 
dirt,  dogs,  and  inquisitive  pedestrians.  Com- 
pounds surround  every  property,  poor  or 
rich.  In  the  poorer  homesteads  the  compound 
is  enclosed  by  cornstalk  fences,  but  a “ com- 
pound ” all  must  have. 

A “ gateman  ” is  a man  who  lives  with  his 
family  at  the  house,  sometimes  built  into  the 
wall  just  beside  the  entrance  gate. 

His  business  is  varied;  he  is  the  servant  of 
all  the  household,  but  usually  a very  important 
member.  Hear  the  noise  that  big  official  is 
making.  “Yebo!  Yebo!”  (Here  you!  Here 
you!)  At  the  last  cry  the  startled  gateman 
looks  up,  and  although  frightened  almost  to 


50  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

death,  does  not  dare  to  disobey  or  ignore  the 
imperial  party  looking  at  him  inquiringly  from 
the  wall.  “ Nay,  nay,”  he  answers  (yes,  yes), 
and  in  a moment  stands  on  his  side  of  the  wall 
looking  up  at  the  little  prince  and  the  officials. 

The  little  prince  spoke  quickly.  “ Go,  serv- 
ant, and  call  for  me  your  mistress, The  foreign 
lady.” 

“ Yes,  yes,  I will  go,  your  majesty,”  and 
his  trembling  feet  hurry  away,  his  wooden 
shoes  (rainy  or  snowy  day  shoes)  clattering 
on  the  hard  frozen  path. 

As  the  party  waited  for  the  lady,  the  older 
of  the  three  women  remonstrated  with  his 
majesty,  saying  it  was  cold;  but  he  bade  her 
be  silent,  said  he  was  not  cold  with  cotton 
padded  clothes  on.  She  prepared  to  argue, 
but  he  peremptorily  told  her  not  to  bother  him, 
and  just  then  the  foreign  lady  missionary  ap- 
peared. Slight  in  figure,  neatly  dressed  in 
American  clothes,  such  as  a teacher  wears  in 
a schoolroom,  and  with  a cloak  thrown  hastily 
around  her  shoulders,  she  made  a pretty  pic- 
ture. Her  sweet  face  looked  her  inquiry  be- 
fore she  spoke,  addressing  herself  to  the  older 
woman  caretaker,  as  was  proper  in  a country 
where  women  and  men  do  not  talk  to  each 
other,  unless  of  the  same  family.  But  that  did 
not  suit  the  little  prince.  Hearing  the  lady 
talk  in  his  own  language,  he  addressed  her, 
saying : “ Talk  to  me,  I want  to  ask  questions. 
You  talk  my  language;  talk  to  me'.” 

His  tone  was  respectful,  his  language 
courteous,  and  the  lady,  turning  to  the  child, 
said,  “ Yes,  yes,  your  majesty,  I can  talk  your 


“ Only  a Prince  of  Korea”  51 

language,  a very  little  bit,  but  am  not  used  to 
addressing  a prince,  and  know  not  the  forms 
of  ‘ talk  ’ used  to  you  in  the  imperial  house- 
hold.” 

“ Oh,  never  mind,  that  matters  not,”  an- 
swered the  little  fellow,  his  dark  eyes  all  aglow 
with  his  eagerness  to  learn  what  he  so  much 
wanted  to  know. 

^■VJPou-in,  listen ; when  is  your  great-day,  the 
Yea-su  Tan-ill-all.  Oh,  yes,  I know  about 
its  name,”  seeing  the  wonder  in  the  lady’s 
eyes.  “ It’s  the  * Jesus  Birthday.’  Quickly  tell 
me  when  it  is,  and  what  you  do  in  your 
churches  on  that  day?  ” 

“ Why,”  she  answered,  with  a winsome 
smile,  “ the  ‘ Jesus  Birthday  ’ is  to-morrow,  lit- 
tle prince,  and  we  do  many  things  in  our 
churches;  can  you  not  ask  and  receive  permis- 
sion to  come  to  our  celebration  in  the  church 
across  the  road  next  to  the  ‘ Ewa  ’ School  ? ” 
The  boyish  face  clouded.  “ Not  I,”  he  an- 
swered. “ I am  only  a prince ; I am  not  like 
the  other  boys  of  my  country;  I cannot  go  out 
of  the  palace  gates  now  even  so  far  as  I used 
to  go.  But  tell  me,  can  you  not  get  one  of 
the  ‘ Jesus  Birthdays  ’ and  bring  it  to  me  here 
in  your  room  ? Look  ( running  along  the  wall 
to  the  space  opposite  her  window),  look,  I can 
see  down  in  there  if  you  will  open  your  win- 
dows wide,  and  if  you  will  put  a ‘ Jesus  Birth- 
day ’ in  there  to-morrow,  I can  have  one,  too, 
while  I stand  here.  Oh,  please,  lady;  I am  a 
prince,  and  never  had  a ‘ Jesus  Birthday.’ 
Give  me  one,  lady,  please  do.” 

Startled  by  the  request,  the  missionary  did 


52  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

not  answer  for  a moment ; then,  with  the  plead- 
ing brown  eyes  looking  into  hers,  she  quickly 
said : “ Oh,  I don’t  see  how  I can  do  that.  It 
is  too  cold  for  you  to  stand  there.  Your 
mother  would  not  like  you  to.  You  might  get 
sick,  and  besides,  I have  nothing  with  which 
to  make  a ‘ Jesus  Birthday.’  It  needs  a con- 
gregation or  an  audience,  and  then ” 

“ Oh,  that’s  all  right,”  said  this  young  man, 
bound  to  gain  his  point,  “ here’s  your  congrega- 
tion,” and  majestically  raising  his  hands  he 
took  in  the  three  half-frozen  male  attendants 
and  the  three  women,  whose  unhappy,  dis- 
gusted, scowling  faces  looked  very  unlike  the 
“ Jesus  congregation  ” of  the  church  across 
the  way.  Suppressing  a smile,  the  lady  was 
about  to  speak,  but  the  boyish  voice  went  on 
in  pleading  tones,  “ Lady,  listen ; I’ve  never 
had  a ‘ Jesus  Birthday  ’ in  my  whole  life,  and 
if  you  don’t  make  me  one  to-morrow,  I may 
never  have  one,  for  I’m  only  a little  prince,  and 
I want  one  ‘ Jesus  Birthday  ’ like  other  boys.” 
The  missionary  could  not  resist  the  plea.  “ Ah, 
your  majesty,  I shall  try  to  do  something  to- 
morrow, although  I have  little  to  do  with,  I 
fear.” 

She  was  about  to  turn  away  when  again  the 
boy  stopped  her.  “ Lady,  I heard  that  you 
have  a ‘ san-namoo  ’ (pine  tree)  with  funny 
fruit  on  it,  fruit  that  comes  from  America. 
You’ll  get  the  fruit  for  my  ‘ Jesus  Birthday,’ 
and  I’ll  have  my  servants  get  the  tree.” 

“ Very  well,”  laughed  the  lady,  “ I’ll  do  my 
best,  but  I must  go  in  now ; it  is  cold,  and  I am 
very  busy.  Good-bye,  then,  until  to-morrow.” 


“ Only  a Prince  of  Korea  ” 53 

She  hurried  into  the  house,  while  the  prince 
turned  and  sauntered  with  a happy  face  back 
to  his  apartments  to  think  it  out,  while  the 
disgusted,  newly  made,  unwilling  congrega- 
tion turned  to  their  various  duties  of  sitting 
around  waiting  for  the  young  master’s  call. 
Sadly  they  shook  their  heads  as  they  talked 
together  in  whispers,  squatting  in  two  little 
groups  on  the  handsome  floor  rugs  just  out- 
side the  door  of  the  room  the  boy  had  entered. 

What  new  freak  is  this?  He,  a prince  of 
Korea,  holding  conversation  with  a Christian? 
His  only  religious  duty  should  be  worshipping 
at  the  temples  as  did  his  forefathers.  Would 
not  the  gods  be  offended  and  dire  calamity 
visit  the  palace  ? “ Eigo ! Eigo ! ” they  wailed, 
“ what  a foolish  child,  but  who  could  stop 
him  but  the  royal  mother,  and  who  would  take 
the  task  of  telling  her?  ” 

But  let  us  leave  them  to  their  misery  and 
hasten  on  with  Time  to  the  next  morning,  just 
at  daybreak ; it  was  bitter  cold ; across  the  east- 
ern gate  of  the  city  the  new  day  struggled  to 
arouse  itself  from  the  slumbers  of  the  night. 
The  palace  door  opens,  a small  boy  steps  forth, 
softly  ordering  here  and  there  the  officials  who 
follow  shivering. 

“ You  go  out  that  way  and  call  that  stupid 
gateman;  quick,  now;  tell  him  to  call  the  lady 
at  once.  You  stand  here,  and  when  the  lady 
is  seen  coming  out  of  the  door  call  me 
quickly,”  this  to  another.  The  officials  go 
about  the  duty  assigned,  while  the  prince  waits 
in  the  outer  hall  with  three  sleepy  looking 
women  and  one  disgusted  man. 


54  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

A thump  on  the  lady’s  door  called  her  from 
dreamland.  “ What  is  it  ? ” she  asked. 

A scared  voice  answered,  “ Oh,  Pou-in,  the 
prince  and  the  officials  are  here  at  the  wall, 
and  he  says  he  wants  his  4 Jesus  Birthday  ’ 
right  away.” 

The  Pou-in  arose;  long  residence  in  the  land 
of  the  Orient  had  made  her  patient.  She 
dressed  hurriedly,  and  found  at  the  wall  the 
prince  and  his  “ congregation.”  It  was  just 
light  enough  to  see  their  faces,  the  boy’s 
bright  and  eager,  the  attendants’  cross  and 
blue  with  the  cold.  “ My,”  thought  the 
lady,  as  she  smiled  to  herself,  “ I hope  their 
faces  will  not  freeze;  they’ll  be  very  ugly  if 
they  do.” 

The  boy,  seeing  her,  said  quickly,  and  all 
in  a breath,  “ Oh,  Pou-in,  here  we  are,  and 
there  are  ‘ namoo  ’ (trees),  two  of  them. 
Please,  Pou-in,  give  me  the  ‘ Jesus  Birthday  ’ 
now.” 

“ Ah,  no,  little  prince,  I cannot  do  that ; you 
must  wait.  I was  up  until  midnight  getting 
the  ‘ Jesus  Birthday  ’ ready  for  my  pupils,  and 
I had  no  time  to  find  the  funny  fruit  you  want 
on  the  trees.  I must  go  to  the  stores  in  ‘Jap 
town  ’ and  see  if  there  is  some  to  be  bought. 
You  come  back  here  to-day  when  the  sun  is 
right  overhead ; it  will  be  noon  then,  and 
warmer.  I will  see  what  I can  do  during  the 
morning.”  Still  smiling,  the  lady  instructed 
the  gateman  to  pick  up  the  two  four  feet  high 
pine  trees  the  officials  had  tossed  angrily  over 
the  wall,  and  to  carry  them  into  the  house. 
Reluctantly,  yet  with  the  eager  look  still  on 


“ Only  a Prince  of  Korea  ” 55 

his  face,  the  boy  turned  away  with  a “ Thank 
you,  lady.” 

Breakfast  and  household  duties  over,  morn- 
ing prayers  said,  a little  time  of  joyous  gift 
giving  and  Christmas  cheer  with  the  pupils, 
and  then  the  lady  had  the  gateman  call  a 
“ jin-rikh-i-sha,”  a funny  two- wheeled  vehicle 
with  a man  for  a horse.  Into  this  she  stepped 
and  the  willing  man-horse  hurried  her  away 
to  “ Jap  town,”  the  place  of  the  Japanese  where 
foreign  goods  are  sometimes  sold.  An  hour 
spent  in  search  produced  but  four  American 
tinsel  ornaments  and  one  precious  package  of 
the  colored  Christmas  tree  candles  and  candle 
holders,  one  dozen  in  all,  a few  more  orna- 
ments secured  by  a hurried  search  in  the  store- 
room, some  oranges  and  persimmons  (Korea’s 
greatest  fruit  production),  tied  with  stray 
pieces  of  ribbon,  and  the  “ fruit  ” of  the  tree 
was  ready.  Then  a still  scared  gateman  placed 
the  green  trees  before  described  in  old  flower- 
pots packed  with  snow,  set  them  on  a table 
beside  the  casement  window  next  the  wall, 
and  all  was  ready. 

Just  as  the  sun  reached  the  spot  over  the 
palace,  and  peeped  merrily  into  the  window 
where  the  Christmas  trees  waited,  the  palace 
doors  burst  open  and  the  boy  rushed  out  to  the 
wall.  The  officials  and  women  followed,  still 
disgusted  and  cross.  The  gateman  had  been 
watching  for  the  prince,  a private  duty  imposed 
upon  himself.  He  ran  in  and  called  the  lady, 
who  slipped  a coat  on,  tied  a scarf  over  her 
head,  put  on  some  warm  gloves,  threw  open 
the  window,  and  pleasantly  greeted  her  “ con- 


56  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

gregation.”  The  little  prince  made  a pretty 
picture  as  he  stood  with  hair  neatly  plaited, 
his  coat  of  pale  green  silk  and  trousers  of  soft 
pink  silk ; white  silk  gauntlets  and  embroidered 
shoes  completing  the  costume. 

And  now  the  proceedings  commenced  with 
the  question,  “ Lady,  tell  me  first  what  do  you 
do  at  your  ‘ Jesus  Birthdays  ’ ? ” 

“ Oh,  we  ‘ chan-me-how,’  ‘ ki-tau-how,’  and 
‘ chun-dau-how.’  ” (We  sing,  pray,  and 
preach. ) 

“ I know  ‘ ki-tau-how  ’ (to  pray),  but  I don’t 
know  the  others.  Do  some  for  me.” 

Amusement  was  written  on  the  gentle  face 
of  the  missionary,  but  she  tried  to  look  grave, 
as  she  answered,  “ I’ll  do  the  best  I can.  First 
we  must  trim  the  trees.” 

She  worked  busily,  placing  the  ornaments 
on  the  tree,  fixing  candles  in  candle  holders, 
tying  oranges  and  persimmons  to  the  boughs. 
While  she  worked  she  spoke  to  the  prince  of 
Jesus,  the  Prince  of  Peace,  of  his  birth,  his 
love  for  all,  his  love  for  the  little  prince  of 
Korea;  but  just  as  she  reached  that  place  she 
was  shocked  to  hear  the  boy  say,  “ Lady,  you 
tell  me  an  untruth;  your  Jesus  does  not  love  me 
or  he  would  have  given  me  a ‘ Jesus  Birth- 
day ’ before  this.  He  may  love  the  little 
children  at  the  churches,  but  not  me ; I’m  only 
a prince,  and  he  never  came  to  my  house.” 

“ Ah,  little  prince,  listen,”  she  answered. 
“ He  does  love  you.  He  tried  to  come  to  you 
before,  but  he  comes  to  you  through  me  to-day 
to  tell  you  that  he  loves  you.  It  is  true ! ” 

The  boy  did  not  answer  at  once.  He  was 


“ Only  a Prince  of  Korea  ” 57 

wondering  whether  he  had  ever  heard  that  the 
gods  in  the  temples  where  he  worshipped  loved 
him ! He  didn’t  believe  that  he  ever  had.  The 
impatient  stamp  of  some  cold  persons  behind 
him  caused  him  to  turn  and  tell  the  whole 
“ guard  ” to  go  in  the  house  if  they  were  cold 
and  didn’t  like  his  “ Jesus  Birthday.” 

But  they  did  not  go;  they  knew  better. 
Their  heads  might  be  in  danger  if  they  left 
that  small  boy  alone  for  a moment.  Now  the 
lady  had  finished  her  task,  wishing  heartily  that 
she  had  more  of  the  brilliant  tinsel  ornaments 
to  use  on  the  trees.  Turning,  she  said : “ Little 
prince,  the  trees  are  trimmed,  and  you  must 
go  into  the  house  and  get  warm,  and  I must 
go  about  my  other  duties.  Come  back  if  you 
can  to-night,  and  I will  light  these  candles 
and  give  you  the  rest  of  the  * Jesus  Birth- 
day/ ” 

The  small  prince  gleefully  clapped  his  hands, 
and  with  a longing  look  at  his  Christmas  tree, 
ran  into  the  house,  while  the  lady  closed  the 
windows,  with  a little  prayer  on  this  the 
prince’s  first  Christmas  Day. 

At  dusk  the  lady  was  sitting  in  the  room 
with  the  trees,  when  she  heard  the  hurried 
rush  to  the  wall,  and  the  eager  boy  voice  call- 
ing, “ Pou-in,  Pou-in,”  and  throwing  open  the 
window,  greeted  the  lad  from  the  dimly  lighted 
room.  Taking  a taper  from  the  table  she 
lighted  it,  and  touching  the  candles  one  by 
one,  the  tiny  flames  shot  into  the  darkness 
about  the  tree,  lighting  up  her  lovely  face  and 
the  tinsel  ornaments.  A burst  of  glee  from 
the  boy  and  a “ grunt  ” from  the  “ congrega- 


58  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

tion  ” greeted  her.  “ Cho-wy-ah,”  “ Cho-wy- 
ah,”  “ E-poo-o  ” (good,  good,  how  pretty), 
followed  by  a “ Now,  lady,  give  me  the  rest 
of  the  birthday.” 

“ Well,  then,”  said  the  lady,  44  we  will  begin. 
The  pupils  of  my  school  are  in  the  next  room 
(custom  forbade  them  being  in  the  room  where 
a boy  or  man  might  see  them),  and  will  help 
me  to  sing  a ‘ Jesus  Birthday  ’ hymn.”  The 
sweet  voice  started  the  dear  old  song,  44  Christ 
is  Bom,  the  Angels  Sing,”  and  the  voices  in  the 
room  beyond  joined  in  the  hymn. 

At  the  close  of  the  sixth  verse,  the  boy  ruler 
clapped  his  hands,  saying  simply,  and  with 
conviction,  4 4 Lady,  that  was  very  good  4 noise/ 
Please  make  some  more.”  Smiling,  the  lady 
turned  in  the  Korean  hymnal  to  others, — 
44  Hark ! the  Herald  Angels  sing,”  44  While 
Shepherds  Watched  their  Flocks  by  Night,” 
and  then  the  chorus  paused  to  rest. 

44  Oh,  that  is  a splendid  noise ; I like  that. 
Quick,  do  some  of  the  rest  of  the  pray  and  the 
preach.” 

The  lady  gasped,  44  preach,”  44  pray”!  how 
could  she  do  that?  She  glanced  through  the 
window  at  the  44  congregation,”  only  one  eager 
face,  all  the  rest  frowning,  and  she  began 
44  to  make  excuses,”  as  others  of  old — her  faith 
was  failing  a little. 

44  O prince,  you  had  the  preaching.  I told 
you  the  story  of  Jesus  as  I placed  the  things 
on  the  trees  to-day.  That  is  all  preaching  is.” 

44  Then  I had  that  part,  did  I ? ” 

44  Yes,  you  did.” 

44  But  I didn't  have  the  pray  part.  Don’t 


“ Only  a Prince  of  Korea  ” 59 

you  want  to  give  me  that  ? Please,  I want  the 
4 pray.'  ” 

The  soul  of  the  missionary  took  on  new  life. 

“ Surely  I want  to  pray ; but  listen,  little 
prince,  our  praying  is  talking  to  Jesus,  and 
he  will  not  be  happy  if  we  are  not  reverent  as 
you  are  to  the  gods.  We  always  bow  our 
heads.” 

No  sooner  said  than  done.  The  boy  hastily 
turned  to  his  attendants,  “ Here,  you  people, 
bow  your  heads  there,  quick.”  Turning,  he 
placed  his  head  in  his  gloved  hands,  and  all 
during  the  prayer  he  kept  it  there,  so  the  lady 
said,  and  she  knows.  She  dropped  on  her 
knees  and  poured  out  her  heart  to  God  in  a 
fervent  prayer  that  the  child  could  understand. 
The  prayer  ended,  heads  were  raised,  the  of- 
ficials’ faces  had  taken  on  an  awe-struck  look ; 
what  had  they  done,  prayed  to  the  Christian 
God?  “ Ei-go,  ei-go,  now  what  would  hap- 
pen?” 

“ Please,  lady,  some  more  of  the  good 
noise.” 

“ Our  Saviour,  in  Judea  born,”  to  the  tune 
of  “ Happy  Day,”  “ God’s  Best  Gift,”  with 
“ Joy  to  the  World,  the  Lord  has  Come,”  fol- 
lowed each  other,  to  the  delight  of  the  small 
boy,  who  showed  his  appreciation  by  rapid 
hand  clappings  and  exclamations  of  delight. 
At  the  last  verse  of  the  last  mentioned  hymn 
the  lady  paused  and  smiled : “ That  is  all  the 
‘ Jesus  Birthday  ’ hymns  in  the  book.  You 
have  had  them  all.” 

To  her  surprise,  the  boy  said,  “ I don’t  think 
that  is  right,  Pou-in,  you  didn’t  sing  it  all.” 


60  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

“ Oh,  but  we  did,”  answered  the  lady. 

Still  the  little  face  was  clouded.  “ But,  lady, 
the  first  time  you  made  the  good  4 noise  ’ you 
went  around  that  noise  six  times,  and  now  you 
have  only  gone  around  this  last  ‘ noise  ’ four 
times.  Where  are  the  other  two  times  ? ” 
Bright  boy,  this  lad  of  Korea.  The  first 
hymn  had  six  verses,  and  the  last  one  but  four. 
Explanations  were  cumbersome,  so  the  lady 
meekly  sang  the  last  two  verses  of  the  last 
hymn  over  again,  and  the  little  prince  gave  a 
satisfied  sigh.  He  had  had  it  all ! 

Meanwhile  the  candles  on  the  tree  had  been 
burning  down  to  dangerously  small  pieces. 
The  lady  smilingly  blew  them  out,  as  she  said, 
“ Have  you  enjoyed  your  ‘ Jesus  Birthday/ 
little  prince?  I think  it  is  all  over  now.” 

“ Oh,  I have ; I did  like  it  all.  I wish  a 
little  prince  of  Korea  could  have  a ‘ Jesus 
Birthday  ’ every  year.  But  did  you  say  it  was 
all  over  ? Is  there  no  more,  lady  ? ” 

The  lady,  puzzled,  answered,  “ Why,  I can 
think  of  no  more.” 

A short  silence,  and  then  the  boy  spoke: 
“ Lady,  I heard  it  said  that  in  your  churches, 
when  you  have  a 4 Jesus  Birthday  ’ you  give 
the  little  boys  presents,  and  I didn’t  get  one. 
Can’t  a prince  have  a present,  too  ? ” He  was 
a prince,  but  the  boy  nature  came  out  in  the 
last  remark.  He  wanted  his  present. 

The  poor,  bewildered  missionary  said : “ Oh, 
little  prince,  I would  like  so  much  to  give  you 
a present.  We  do  give  presents  to  the  boys 
and  girls  in  the  churches,  but  I have  none  that 
will  do  for  a little  prince.  You  don’t  want 


“ Only  a Prince  of  Korea  ” 61 

these  oranges  and  persimmons  like  the  little 
children  in  the  churches.” 

“ Pshaw,  no ! got  lots  of  that  stuff  in  this 
house.” 

“ Yes,  but  you  see,  there  is  nothing  else, 
and  I am  sorry.  Another  time  I will  try  to 
see  that  you,  too,  have  a present.” 

The  disappointed  face  was  raised  once  more 
to  hers.  “ But,  lady,  I never  had  any  of  that 
pretty,  shiny  fruit  on  the  tree.” 

Quickly  the  lady  turned  and  removed  from 
the  tree  the  tinsel  ornaments  decorating  it,  the 
total  value  about  twenty-five  cents,  and  handed 
all  the  shiny  “ fruit  ” of  those  two  wonderful 
Christmas  trees  to  the  young  monarch. 
Gravely  turning,  he  carefully  passed  them  one 
by  one  to  the  waiting  attendants,  saying : 
“ Don’t  you  drop  these.  If  you  do  you  will 
have  to  answer  to  me.”  Then  with  satisfac- 
tion, “ They  are  my  ‘ Jesus  Birthday  ’ pres- 
ents.” But  still  he  lingered.  “ Lady,  I am 
sorry  to  bother  you,”  pleadingly,  “ but  could 
you  give  the  little  prince  one  of  the  books  you 
make  the  good  ‘ noise  ’ out  of  ? ” 

With  a glad  throb  of  joy  the  missionary 
handed  him  her  Korean  hymnal.  Thanking 
her  over  and  over  again,  he  turned  to  her  with 
the  book  clasped  tightly  in  his  hands,  and  with 
a last  lingering  look  at  what  had  been  the 
Christmas  trees,  he  saluted  her  in  a courteous 
fashion  and  entered  the  palace,  closely  fol- 
lowed by  his  attendants,  each  one  carefully 
holding  in  his  hands  the  precious  fruit  of  the 
Christmas  tree.  Our  missionary  closed  the 
window,  and  called  the  gateman,  who  carried 


62  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

the  trees  to  the  door  of  the  servants’  quarters, 
where  the  real  fruit  was  speedily  devoured. 

The  tired  worker  went  to  her  room,  but 
while  preparing  for  her  well-earned  rest,  she 
heard  a frightful  noise  coming  from  within  the 
palace.  Hastily  slipping  on  her  outer  gar- 
ments, she  passed  around  to  the  wall,  found  a 
convenient  box,  and  mounted  it  to  look  over 
the  wall  into  the  brilliantly  lighted  room  from 
which  the  noise  came.  Visions  of  a little 
prince,  whose  mother  had  a habit  of  spanking 
him  when  he  didn’t  please  the  maternal  mind, 
came  to  her  with  a heartache  because  she  had 
been  the  cause  of  it;  but  to  her  great  joy  she 
saw  that  her  fears  were  groundless.  She 
could  just  see  into  the  room,  and  looked  upon 
three  men,  the  larger  of  whom  had  clasped 
tightly  in  his  hands  the  precious  Korean 
hymnal,  and  three  women  hovering  around  try- 
ing to  see  as  well,  while  before  the  six  stood  a 
glowing,  eager  little  boy  with  hand  upraised 
as  if  beating  time.  Still  as  she  looked  the  little 
voice  was  raised  shrilly  suggestive : “ I tell  you 
the  good  ‘ noise  ’ is  in  the  book.  You  must  get 
it  out.  Didn’t  I hear  the  lady  get  it  out  ? The 
4 noise  ’ you’re  getting  out  is  a very  bad 
‘ noise.’  Now  do  it  again,  and  get  the  good 
‘ noise  ’ out  or  you  will  see  what  will  happen.” 
And  six  scared  perspiring  faces  once  more  bent 
over  the  book. 

The  lady,  Returning  to  her  own  room, 
dropped  on  her  knees,  her  heart  leaping  for 
joy,  keeping  time  to  the  one  strain,  “ Joy  to  the 
World,  the  Lord  has  Come,”  sung  in  six  dif- 
ferent keys  to  six  different  tunes  in  six  dif- 


“ Only  a Prince  of  Korea  ” 63 


ferent  times.  It  was  the  sweetest  music  she 
had  ever  heard,  and  her  last  thought  as  she 
slept,  with  it  ringing  in  her  ears,  was,  “ Oh, 
my  Father,  I thank  thee,  that  thou  hast  let  me 
be  a missionary  to  Korea.” 


VI 


THE  PRINCE  AT  PLAY 

<<  1 ^ UT,  Your  Majesty,  it  is  to  be  a very 
warm  day.  The  sun’s  burning 
beams  already  flood  the  garden  ex- 
cept where  the  trees  stand.” 

“ I know  that,  ‘ Ko  hy-een  ’ (servant  Ko),” 
said  the  crown  prince  of  Korea  fretfully. 
“ That’s  why  I want  to  go.  It’s  too  hot  to  sit 
here  under  the  trees  and  just  think  how  hot  it 
is.  I don’t  want  to  stay  here.  I want  to  go 
over  by  the  wall  and  watch  that  little  Amer- 
ican boy  do  the  funny  things  he  calls  ‘ ply- 
• _ > )> 
mg. 

“ Not  ply-ing,”  said  another  official  standing 
by,  whose  rank  in  the  Emperor’s  household 
was  official  interpreter  to  the  little  prince. 
“ You  haven’t  the  English  word  right.  It  is 
p-l-a-y-i-n-g,  the  little  American  boy  says  he 
does.  But  it’s  hot,  I don’t  think  he  will  be 
playing  in  his  garden;  better  stay  here  and  let 
us  teach  you  some  of  the  things  that  the  ‘ Fa- 
vourite of  the  Most  High,’  the  emperor,  your 
father,  wishes  you  to  learn.” 

“ Oh,  I have  been  learning  every  day  and 
every  day.  I am  only  a little  boy,  and  I’ll  know 
too  much  by  and  by.  All  the  knowing  place  is 
tired  out,”  and  the  poor  little  crown  prince 
64 


The  Prince  at  Play  65 

held  his  little  head  with  both  hands,  for  he  was 
bored  to  death  surrounded,  with  the  five  of- 
ficials, with  two  women  hovering  near  by.  Is 
it  any  wonder  that  the  little  boy  with  all  a 
boy’s  vigour  wished  to  do  something  else  than 
walk  around  through  the  grounds  of  the  palace 
in  the  city  of  Seoul,  Korea. 

The  officials  gravely  shook  their  heads,  but 
followed  the  boy  as  he  slowly  walked  out  into 
the  sunshine  and  over  to  the  wall  separating 
the  palace  grounds  from  the  home  of  one  of 
the  missionaries  from  America,  whose  house 
and  grounds  were  just  next  door  to  the  palace. 

The  officials  followed  him,  wiping  perspiring 
brows,  trying  to  shield  their  faces  from  the 
hot  sun  pouring  down  on  them.  One  man  in 
particular,  weighing  about  two  hundred  and 
fifty  pounds,  Cho  Sy-bang  by  name,  called  by 
the  prince  “Cho  hy-een”  (servant  Cho),  for 
these  men,  though  officials  of  the  palace  and 
bodyguard  to  the  prince,  were  only  his  serv- 
ants. Such  they  were  called  and  so  they  ex- 
pected to  be  treated.  Well,  to  go  on  with  our 
story,  Cho  hy-een  was  subject  to  weather  con- 
ditions, particularly  a hot  day.  He  was  not 
very  tall,  but  he  was  very  stout,  and  as  he 
walked,  or  rather  waddled,  out  into  the  hot 
sun  his  heavy,  bulky  frame  shivered  with  in- 
dignation and  the  perspiration  oozed  in  great 
drops  on  his  forehead  and  face  and  Cho  hy-een 
was  wondering  whether  his  official  position  as 
bodyguard  of  the  little  prince  was  worth  what 
it  was  costing  him  of  physical  suffering. 

Meanwhile  the  little  prince,  with  drooping 
eyes,  tired,  weary,  and  bored-looking,  kicked 


66  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

his  little  toes  against  the  stones  of  the  wall, 
seemingly  entirely  unconscious  of  the  hot  sun. 
Just  as  he  was  about  to  turn  away,  because 
there  was  no  small  boy  in  that  garden,  a door 
opened  and  a boy  full  of  life  and  vigour  of 
about  the  same  age  as  the  little  prince  (then 
about  eight),  bounded  out  of  the  doorway, 
laughing,  a sugar  cake  in  each  hand,  while  his 
mother’s  Korean  cook  waved  a floury  hand 
at  him,  calling  “ Now  that’s  the  fourth  cake 
this  morning.  If  you  come  in  here  and  take 
any  more  cakes  I’ll  tell  your  mother.”  But 
the  boy,  true  to  the  boyish  impulse,  only  said, 
“ Crank-i-chan-so  ” (“  Oh,  never  mind  ”), 

adding,  “ Mother  won’t  care  if  I don’t  get 
sick.” 

Just  as  he  took  a generous  bite  from  the 
second  cake,  the  first  one  having  disappeared 
even  as  he  talked,  the  boy  caught  sight  of  the 
little  Prince  and  greeted  him  in  the  Korean 
language,  boylike,  with  “ Oh ! hello  there, 
Prince.  Say,  come  on  over;  I will  give  you 
one  of  mother’s  cakes,  they’re  fine,”  and  the 
little  Prince,  without  waiting  for  permission, 
flew  past  his  bodyguard,  out  of  his  gate,  and 
into  the  adjoining  gate,  and  when  he  reached 
the  American  boy  the  latter  had  taken  from 
his  pocket  a rather  crumbled  looking  cake,  and 
offering  it  at  once  to  the  prince  said : “ Say, 
old  Chappie,  you  don’t  mind  if  it’s  busted,  do 
you?  It  is  just  as  fresh  as  the  one  I’m  eating. 
It  just  got  broken  in  my  pocket.” 

The  little  prince’s  face  beamed ; all  the  tired 
look  vanished  as  he  grasped  the  cake,  saying  to 
the  missionary  boy : “ I don’t  know  what  you 


The  Prince  at  Play  67 

said,  all  of  it.  I like  the  part  of  it  you  said 
‘Chappie/  ‘Chappie/  What’s  Chappie?  I 
like  Chappie.” 

“ Oh,  do  you  ? ” said  his  companion,  speak- 
ing in  Korean  once  more.  “ Well,  then,  that’s 
your  name,  ‘ old  man,’  in  the  future.” 

“ Old  man,”  said  the  prince  musingly. 
“ that’s  another  English  word.  I know  three 
now.”  Then  counting  on  his  fingers,  he  be- 
gan : “ I know  p-l-a-y-i-n-g  and  c-h-a-p-p-i-e 
and  o-l-d  m-a-n.  My!  I’ll  soon  know  your 
language.” 

The  American  boy  grinned,  but  he  an- 
swered, “ All  right,  Chappie,  can’t  you  stay  and 
play  awhile?  Come  on  down  under  the  trees, 
it’s  hot  here,”  and  utterly  regardless  of  the 
bodyguard  standing  near  by,  the  American  boy 
in  a white  cotton  suit,  cool  and  comfortable 
looking,  and  the  little  Prince  clad  in  thin,  bril- 
liantly coloured  gauzy  silk  clothes  trotted  side 
by  side  through  the  garden  toward  an  old  elm 
tree  that  stood  just  inside  the  gate.  The  body- 
guard followed,  all  but  the  two  women.  They 
stood  at  the  wall  and  looked  over  to  see  what 
next  the  prince  was  going  to  do. 

The  tree  reached,  a bright  idea  struck  the 
American  boy.  “ Now,  look  here,  Chappie,” 
he  said  to  the  prince,  “ I’m  going  to  ‘ shinny  ’ 
up  that  tree.  I’ll  beat  you  to  the  top.” 

“ ‘ S-h-i-n-n-y,’  ” what’s  shinny  ? ” 

“ Oh,  I forgot;  that’s  another  American 
word,”  said  his  host.  “ Why,  why — it  means 
climb  to  the  top  of  the  tree.” 

“ Oh,  that’ll  be  nice,”  said  the  prince ; and 
as  the  American  boy  leaped  for  a bough  the 


68  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

Korean  boy  grasped  one  on  the  other  side,  but 
got  no  further  up  that  tree.  Before  the  prince 
could  raise  his  little  foot  a murmur  of  fear 
ran  through  the  group  of  attendants  as  they 
gazed  at  the  American  boy  mounting  higher 
and  higher,  from  one  branch  to  the  other, 
like  a monkey. 

“ Oh,”  said  the  interpreter,  “ His  Majesty 
cannot  do  that,”  and  stepping  forward  he 
caught  the  prince,  drew  him  away  from  the 
tree,  saying,  “ That’s  only  for  the  rough  for- 
eigners to  do.  A prince  must  not  disgrace 
himself  so.  Come,  Your  Majesty,  come  home; 
it  is  better  so.” 

Disgust,  weariness,  and  a bored  expression 
chased  each  other  over  the  face  of  the  little 
prince;  then  he  did  a very  undignified  thing: 
pushing  the  interpreter  from  him  he  started 
for  the  tree,  only  to  be  caught  and  restrained 
by  another  one  of  the  bodyguards,  who  mur- 
mured, “ Oh,  he  will  be  killed,  and  then  we 
must  all  die.” 

“ Hello  there,  Chappie,  what  are  they  do- 
ing down  there  to  you.  What’s  the  matter? 
you’re  not  afraid,  are  you?”  this  from  half- 
way up  the  tree,  where  the  American  boy 
peacefully  reposed  on  a swaying  branch. 

The  prince  tried  to  answer,  but  looking 
around  at  his  determined  bodyguard  he  threw 
himself  flat  on  the  ground  and  roared  out  his 
disgust  at  being  a Korean  prince  with  a body- 
guard, instead  of  an  American  boy. 

“ Oh,  say  there,  little  prince,  what’s  up  ? 
Don’t  you  care  if  those  fellows  won’t  let  you; 
we’ll  play  something  else.  I’ll  come  down.” 


The  Prince  at  Play  69 

At  these  words  the  little  prince  raised  him- 
self from  the  ground  and  called  up,  “ No,  no, 
stay  there,  I like  to  play  this ; ” then  thought- 
fully, “ I can’t  come  up,  they  won’t  let  me. 
That’s  because  I am  a prince  and  must  have 
these  men  around  all  the  time,  but,”  with  de- 
termination, “ we’ll  keep  on  playing  it.  Wait 
a minute.” 

Then  he  rose  to  his  feet,  and  assuming  all 
the  dignity  he  had  learned  in  his  eight  short 
years  of  life,  he  turned  to  the  five  men  and 
said,  “ All  right,  I go  not  up  the  tree  as  does 
the  boy  from  the  other  country,  but  we  ‘ play  ’ 
this  way  still.  Now  you,  hy-een  Kim,  follow 
that  boy  and  climb  that  tree,  and  you,”  said 
he  to  the  interpreter,  “ stand  beneath  the  tree 
and  if  he  falls  down  pick  him  up;  then,”  went 
on  the  business-like  talk  of  the  little  prince, 

you  and  you,”  addressing  two  others,  “ climb 
up  that  tree  after  this  man.  Now  don’t  be 
afraid,”  he  said,  “ if  you  fall  down,  he’ll  pick 
you  up.”  An  exclamation  from  the  dismayed 
bodyguard,  a pleading  protest  or  two,  only 
served  to  make  the  boy  more  imperative. 
“ Hush,  you  fellows,”  he  said.  “ You  stop 
my  play,  so  you’ve  got  to  play  yourself.  Get 
up  that  tree  and  get  up  quick.”  As  they  started 
to  obey  him  his  eye  caught  sight  of  the  man 
who  was  the  least  in  favour  of  all  his  body- 
guards, the  perspiring  two  hundred  and  fifty 
pound  Cho.  “ Now,  you,”  he  said,  “ you’ll 
look  nice  up  that  tree.  You  like  the  shade 
and  it’s  very  shady  up  that  tree;  go  climb  the 
tree  at  once.” 

“ Now,  look  here,  Your  Majesty,”  said  the 


70  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

“ Most  Favourite  ” official  interpreter,  “ Come, 
this  will  not  do.  These  men  are  not  Ameri- 
cans, they  cannot  climb  trees.  Take  back  the 
command  and  come,  let  us  go  to  the  house.” 

“ No,  Kim,”  said  the  boy  with  determina- 
tion. “ I never  do  anything  like  the  other  boys, 
just  because  I’m  a prince.  If  I can’t  do  it  you 
people  will  have  to.”  Then  again  he  repeated 
his  command  to  the  trembling  Cho  and  the 
other  three  officials.  Knowing  pleas  were  use- 
less, the  three  more  slender  officials  painfully 
made  their  way  part  way  up  the  tree,  while 
the  impish  American  boy  urged  them  on  with 
such  sentences  as  “ Come  on  up,  it’s  nicer  up 
here.  Now  don’t  get  on  that  limb;  it  will 
break.  Look  out,  the  sun  shines  on  that  one. 
What’s  the  matter,  did  you  scratch  your  hand  ? 
Never  mind  a little  thing  like  that,  come  on 
up” 

All  this  time  the  little  prince  said  not  a 
word,  but  seemed  to  be  enjoying  the  efforts  of 
the  men  to  reach  the  place  where  the  Amer- 
ican boy  sat.  The  men  were  finally  seated 
on  branches  about  halfway  up  to  the  bough 
on  which  his  host  reposed,  when  he  turned 
and  caught  sight  of  the  trembling  Cho,  bathed 
with  perspiration,  scared  to  death,  and  mourn- 
fully holding  on  to  the  lowest  branch  just 
above  his  head. 

“ Now  you,  Cho,”  said  the  boy,  “ I see, 
you’re  too  fat,  you  can’t  get  up.  Here  you,” 
he  called,  “ Sung  hy-een,  come  down,”  this  to 
the  man  seated  on  the  lowest  branch ; “ come 
down  here  and  help  get  Cho  up  the  tree;  he’s 
got  to  go.” 


The  Prince  at  Play  71 

Sung  painfully  made  his  way  down,  ruefully 
looked  at  his  silken  garments  both  soiled  and 
torn,  almost  too  flowing  a garment  to  climb 
trees  with,  and  the  baggy  trousers  had  per- 
sisted on  catching  on  every  twig.  Once  more 
on  the  ground  both  he  and  the  interpreter  tried 
to  reason  with  the  boy,  but  the  boy  was  the 
“ prince,”  and  only  said,  “ Get  Cho  into  that 
tree  and  get  him  there  quick,”  and  with  many 
painful  contortions  Cho  was  apparently  pulled, 
and  pushed,  and  lifted  to  the  lowest  branch  of 
the  tree  five  feet  from  the  ground.  “ Higher 
yet,”  said  the  prince.  “ Hurry  up.” 

“ Oh,  Your  Majesty ” began  the  inter- 

preter. 

“ Hush,  Kim,  put  him  higher  up ; he’ll  have 
to  learn  to  p-l-a-y  if  he  won’t  let  me  p-l-a-y,” 
and  the  struggle  was  on. 

Cho  pulled  himself  upward  while  Kim 
pushed  from  below,  and  Sung,  throwing  one 
arm  around  a limb  higher  up,  pulled  and 
tugged.  The  officials  on  the  other  limbs  held 
fearfully  to  the  boughs  on  which  they  sat.  The 
tree  creaked  and  groaned  with  the  added 
weight.  The  American  boy  who  had  orig- 
inated the  game  of  p-l-a-y,  stuffed  his  hand- 
kerchief into  his  mouth  to  keep  from  laughing 
outright,  but  the  prince’s  face  was  very  grave. 
If  the  weight  of  the  nation  had  rested  on 
his  shoulders  he  could  not  have  been  more 
sedate. 

After  a mournful  sigh  by  Cho,  he  was  at 
last  placed  upon  the  next  limb  about  eight 
feet  from  the  ground,  two  arms  around  the 
trunk  of  the  tree,  hanging  on  for  dear  life. 


72  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

hat  over  one  ear,  face  scratched  where  he  came 
in  contact  with  the  trunk  as  he  climbed,  silken 
garments  almost  in  ribbons,  perspiration  roll- 
ing in  streams  and  gathering  in  the  folds  of  his 
neck.  With  him  the  game  of  p-l-a-y  was  not 
very  popular.  The  picture  was  an  interesting 
one:  the  host  about  twenty  feet  from  the 
ground,  choking  with  laughter ; two  dis- 
gusted looking  officials  on  the  same  side  with 
himself  ten  and  twelve  feet  from  the  ground, 
respectively;  on  the  other  side  of  the  tree 
the  battered  Cho.  Three  feet  higher  up  Sung 
held  on  with  one  hand  and  wiped  the  perspira- 
tion from  his  face  with  the  other.  Below 
stood  the  prince  of  Korea,  with  gaze  fastened 
upward  as  if  enraptured  with  the  view  of  his 
entire  bodyguard  playing  bird. 

The  interpreter  looked  alternately  from 
his  fellow-labourers  over  the  wall  to  the  palace 
door.  “ What  if  the  Emperor  or  the  mother 
of  the  prince  should  come  out  of  that  door?  ” 
The  two  women  standing  at  the  wall  held  on 
to  each  other,  fearing  they  might  be  called 
upon  to  follow  suit  in  the  p-l-a-y  game. 

The  silence  was  broken  by  the  American 
boy,  who  said,  “ Oh,  say,  old  chappie,  I’m 
afraid  these  men  will  fall.  Let  them  off;  I’ll 
come  down  and  talk  to  you.  It’s  most  dinner 
time,  anyhow.” 

“ One  minute,”  said  the  prince.  “ Cho,  do 
you  like  this  p-l-a-y  ? ” 

“ No,  Your  Majesty,”  answered  Cho. 

“ Cho,  are  you  going  to  tell  tales  on  me  to 
my  father  and  mother  ? ” 

“ Tales,  Your  Majesty?  ” 


The  Prince  at  Play  73 

“ Yes,  Cho,  tales.  It’s  about  all  you’ve  done 
since  you’ve  been  with  me.” 

“ Oh,  Your  Majesty,”  began  Cho,  and  just 
then  the  breezes  swept  the  boughs  of  the  tree 
and  the  words  died  in  a gurgle  of  fear  in 
Cho’s  throat  as  he  held  tighter  to  the  trunk 
of  the  tree. 

“ Cho,”  went  on  the  boy,  “if  I never  ask 
you  to  p-l-a-y  this  way  again,  will  you  let  me 
do  some  of  the  things  I want  to  do?  ” 

“ Oh,  yes,  Your  Majesty,  everything,”  tear- 
fully replied  Cho. 

“ Well,  then,  Cho,  you  can  come  down,  but 
don’t  you  fall;  you’ll  hurt  yourself,”  and  a sat- 
isfied gleam  beamed  in  the  boy’s  eye. 

“ Kim,  you’d  better  help  Cho;  he’ll  fall 
down.  Oh,  wait  a minute,  he  will  fall.”  This 
as  the  frantic  efforts  made  by  Cho  and  Kim 
only  succeeded  in  sliding  Cho  dangerously  near 
the  outer  edge  of  the  limb,  which  groaned 
more  than  ever  under  his  weight. 

“ Here,  you  two  fellows,  get  down  from 
your  side.”  This  to  the  men  seated  beneath 
his  host  on  the  right  hand  side  of  the  tree. 
They  needed  not  a second  bidding,  but  de- 
scended at  once.  It  took  the  combined  efforts 
of  the  three  men  as  well  as  that  of  the  Amer- 
ican boy  who,  like  a monkey,  slid  down  in  a 
moment’s  time  and  called  out  instructions  as  to 
how  the  stout  man  could  be  lifted  to  the 
ground.  He  reached  the  ground  at  last,  with 
his  clothes  in  tatters,  soaked  with  perspiration, 
his  hands  scratched,  hat  broken  and  down  over 
one  eye,  nose  bleeding  where  it  was  skinned. 
After  him  came  Sung,  and  the  tree  was  empty. 


74  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

The  boy  surveyed  the  group  of  humble 
bodyguard  officials,  and  then  said : “ Now, 
Kim,  you  stay  here  with  me,  and  the  rest  of 
you  go  over  home  and  clean  up,  and  remem- 
ber, Cho,  no  more  tales,  or  we’ll  p-l-a-y  again.” 
Then  he  watched  as  the  dilapidated  looking 
officials,  shaking  their  heads  and  rubbing 
bruises  very  gently,  walked  out  the  gate  and 
through  the  palace  gate  into  their  home. 

“ Stand  over  there,  Kim,  I want  to  talk 
to  this  boy,”  and  going  out  of  earshot 
he  said  to  his  rather  scared  host,  “ I’ve 
had  a mighty  fine  time  this  morning.  Your 
p-l-a-y  is  great,  but  I must  not  do  it 
again.  I am  going  home  now  to  be  spanked 
for  this.  My  mother  will  spank  me  when  she 
hears  about  it  and  I am  going  over  to  tell 
her  right  away  to  get  it  over.  You  know  how 
that  is,  don’t  you,  boy  ? ” 

“ Yes,”  thoughtfully  replied  the  American 
boy,  “ I know  how  it  is;  it’s  happened  to  me, 
but  not  for  climbing  trees.  Sorry  for  you, 
Chappie.  Say,  they  did  look  funny,  didn’t 
they  ? ” and  again  he  laughed  at  the  mental 
picture  of  the  officials. 

“ Yes,  they  did  look  funny,  but  that’s  not 
it.  I have  had  some  excitement,  something 
going  on.  I was  just  really  dying  because 
there  was  nothing  doing.  Now  something’s 
been  done  and  something  more  will  be  done 
when  I get  spanked;  but  say,”  and  a wicked 
gleam  of  satisfaction  glowed  once  more  in  his 
eyes.  “ Say,  that  Cho  will  let  me  p-l-a-y  my- 
self the  next  time,  I guess.  I think  he’s  had 
a lesson.  Your  cake  was  good,  boy,  your 


The  Prince  at  Play  75 

p-i-a-y  was  better.  It’s  been  a fine  morning 
and  it’s  worth  being  spanked  for.  Say,”  lean- 
ing once  more  close  to  the  boy,  “ when  you  get 
born  again,  like  we  all  have  to  do,  don’t  get 
born  a prince  in  a palace;  get  born  just  what 
you  are,  a boy  of  your  country  that  can  p-l-a-y 
all  the  time.  I wish  I was  you,  that’s  all;  but 
it’s  worth  being  spanked  for.  ‘ Be  in  peace 
until  we  meet  again.’  Come,  Kim,”  he  called, 
“ I’m  going  over  to  get  spanked,  if  ‘ aumoni  ’ 
(mother)  has  time  now,”  and  the  boy  was 
gone.  Head  erect,  silken  garments  flying, 
weariness  all  gone  from  the  face  which  had 
on  it  an  expression  of  perfect  happiness. 

“ Gee,”  said  the  American  boy  left  behind. 
“ He’s  game,  all  right.  Too  bad  he  is  a 
prince.  Guess  I’ll  go  to  mother.  I feel  like 
kissing  her  because  she  let  me  be  her  boy — 
an  American  boy,  and  not  the  prince  of 
Korea.” 


VII 


YOU-PO-GIE 

IN  the  land  of  Korea  far  away  among  the 
waters  of  the  broad  Pacific,  nestles  a lit- 
tle low  group  of  buildings  known  as  the 
Woman’s  Hospital  of  the  city  we  will  call  the 
“ Capital.”  Not  much  to  boast  of  in  the  way 
of  looks,  only  one  story  high,  and  a low  one 
at  that;  tile  roof;  fireplaces  under  the  cement 
floor  in  which  the  smouldering  wood  burned 
and  glowed  and  warmed  the  floor  for  the  sleep- 
ing place  of  the  native  Korean  woman  or  child 
who  feared  to  trust  their  sick  bodies  on  the 
foreigner’s  raised  bedsteads. 

The  interior  is  as  plain  as  the  outside,  and 
as  antiseptic  as  soap,  water,  and  hard  work 
could  make  it.  But  plain  as  its  walls  were  they 
could  have  told  you  that  many  a sick  and  suf- 
fering one  had  found  help  for  soul  and  body 
within  their  sheltering  enclosure. 

On  a bright  September  day,  just  in  front  of 
the  hospital  where  a big  tree  stood,  might  be 
seen  standing  a funny  little  specimen  of  hu- 
manity— “ You-po-gie  ” by  name,  sickly  by  na- 
ture; slow  of  movement,  very  small  of  size, 
and  with  a face  that  was  as  homely  as  a small 
brown  face  could  possibly  be.  A waif  of  the 
streets  of  two  years  before,  found  sitting  be- 
76 


KOREAN  BOYS 


You-po-gie  77 

side  a dying  mother  by  a kind-hearted  mission- 
ary. A few  days  later  the  mother  died  and 
You-po-gie  lived  on  until  we  make  his  ac- 
quaintance. 

He  was  now  about  five  years  of  age,  and  in 
his  own  little  mind  the  main  and  only  trouble 
in  this  life  was  to  keep  his  “ pah  ” (stomach) 
well  enough  to  be  able  to  get  his  regular  sup- 
ply of  “ pop  ” (cooked  rice)  at  the  proper 
meal  intervals.  On  the  day  we  first  meet  him 
he  was  not  happy  at  all.  Had  you  asked  him 
he  would  have  told  you  so  with  many  and 
copious  tears.  His  “ pah  ” (stomach)  had  hurt 
him,  and  the  “ wee-won  ” (doctor)  had  given 
him  only  milk  for  dinner,  while  all  the  rest  had 
rice,  big  bowls  of  it.  Then,  too,  he  wanted 
to  sit  down  inside,  but  the  nurses  had  brought 
him  outside  and  told  him  to  play  in  the  sun- 
shine, and  he  didn’t  want  to  play  at  all.  So, 
to  You-po-gie,  this  bright  September  day,  life 
seemed  scarcely  worth  living.  We  will  leave 
him  a little  while  to  his  mournful  reflections  as 
we  study  a little  more  closely  his  personal 
appearance. 

He  was  garbed  in  long  white  baggy  trousers 
tied  at  the  ankle  Korean  fashion  with  bright 
pieces  of  red  calico  that  had  arrived  in  the 
missionary  box  from  America.  His  short 
jacket  with  sleeves  that  reached  to  the  armpit 
was  of  the  same  piece  of  calico.  Therein  You- 
po-gie’s  garb  harmonized.  Over  the  white 
trousers,  tied  up  close  under  the  armpit,  over- 
lapping in  the  back,  was  a long  white  apron 
skirt.  The  strings  were  tied  in  front,  two  ends 
and  one  loop  that  stood  straight  and  stiff  as 


yS  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

if  trying  to  reach  his  flat  little  Oriental  nose. 
On  the  feet  were  white  muslin  socks  made  of 
the  same  material  as  the  baggy  trousers.  On 
these  socks  he  walked  around  the  hospital 
floors  (Korean  shoes  being  left  at  the  door). 
But  now  as  he  stood  out  in  the  yard  his  little 
feet  and  socks  were  all  placed  in  the  cheap 
straw  sandals  commonly  worn  in  Korea.  But 
the  most  astonishing  part  of  You-po-gie’s  ap- 
pearance was  his  hair.  When  he  came  to  the 
hospital  his  straight  black  hair  was  mottled 
with  vermin  and  filth  of  the  streets,  and  had 
to  be  shaved.  How  long  the  lad  had  wan- 
dered from  place  to  place  with  his  dying 
mother,  from  where  he  had  come  no  one  knew, 
— detectives  are  not  as  plentiful  in  Korea  as  in 
the  streets  of  New  York,  and  no  one  had  had 
time  to  trace  out  You-po-gie’s  ancestry.  How- 
ever, the  hospital  has  succeeded  in  getting  the 
hair  and  head  clean  and  sweet.  It  had  grown 
to  considerable  length  but  was  not  yet  long 
enough  to  make  a plait  down  his  back  accord- 
ing to  the  style  of  boys’  headgear  in  Korea. 
The  native  nurses  in  the  hospital,  who  adored 
You-po-gie  from  the  top  of  his  head  to  his 
tiny  feet  in  spite  of  his  homely  appearance, 
had  sought  to  brighten  his  looks,  and  had 
taken  the  strands  of  hair  and  plaited  them  in 
the  tiniest  of  plaits  until  the  little  brown  head 
had  no  less  than  sixteen  plaits,  some  two  inches 
in  length,  each  individual  plait  standing  out  in 
a different  direction,  and  each  plait  having  its 
own  individual  piece  of  yarn,  of  various  col- 
ours. They,  too,  had  come  from  the  afore-men- 
tioned Christmas  box,  so  that  You-po-gie  was  a 


You-po-gie  79 

sight  for  tired  eyes  and  a joy  to  behold — if  you 
enjoy  homely  things.  But  you  must  not  let 
the  missionary  doctor  of  the  hospital  or  head 
nurse  from  America  or  any  one  of  the  five  na- 
tive nurses  hear  you  call  You-po-gie  homely. 
Certainly  there  was  a charm  about  his  dear 
little  self  that  beggared  description.  Why,  one 
day  when  the  photographers  came  to  take  a pic- 
ture of  the  hospital,  the  American  doctor  took 
You-po-gie’s  hand  and  placed  him  right  in 
front  of  the  picture  while  the  hospital  helpers 
and  patients,  head  nurse  and  native  nurses 
grouped  around  him,  and  there  he  stood  for 
all  to  behold. 

But  we  have  left  him  now  standing  out  in 
the  sunshine  gazing  mournfully  around.  You 
see  You-po-gie  did  not  know  much  about  his 
being  so  loved.  It  had  been  such  an  everyday 
matter  with  him  that  he  thought  it  just  a part 
of  life.  To-day  he  was  quite  sure  nobody 
loved  him,  and  when  the  door  opened  and  the 
nurse  came  out  and  gently  chided  him  for  not 
running  around  to  play,  his  evil  genius  came 
uppermost,  and  shaking  off  her  gentle  hand  he 
darted  towards  the  door  of  the  hospital,  rushed 
inside,  and  slammed  the  door  in  her  face,  and 
with  a howl  of  sobs  threw  himself  on  the  warm 
Korean  floor.  Used  to  just  such  exhibitions  of 
bad  health  and  weakness  You-po-gie  was  left 
to  himself.  All  the  patients  in  the  beds  longed 
to  comfort  him,  so  did  the  nurses,  but  they  did 
not  dare.  You-po-gie’s  sobs  would  have  con- 
tinued indefinitely  had  they  pitied  him  in  the 
least.  After  half  an  hour  had  passed  the 
doctor  happened  to  enter  the  ward.  Bending 


80  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

over  the  little  boy,  she  called  the  nurse  and 
said,  “ Poor  little  chap,  he  is  asleep,  but  he 
has  been  crying.  What  was  the  matter  ? ” 

“ Oh ! the  same  old  trouble ; he  would  not 
stay  outside,  and  when  I went  to  talk  to  him 
about  it  he  ran  in,  threw  himself  down  here, 
and  went  to  sleep.” 

“ Poor  little  man,”  said  the  big-hearted  doc- 
tor, who  in  spite  of  her  fifteen  years  of  service 
in  the  hospital  in  Korea  never  had  been  able 
to  keep  back  the  tears  when  a Korean  suffered. 

“ Poor  little  man,”  repeated  the  doctor  as 
she  looked  down  at  him,  “ I have  never  quite 
understood  why  you  were  born.  A stomach 
that  is  only  an  ‘ imitation,’  bones  that  are  too 
small  to  carry  you  through  life,  and  a consti- 
tution generally  that  makes  you  have  more 
days  of  weakness  than  you  will  ever  probably 
have  days  of  health.  I wonder  what  mission 
in  life  You-po-gie  will  ever  have.  Perhaps 
it’s  just  to  give  us  something  to  love.  Well, 
when  he  wakes  give  him  specified  quantity  of 
milk,  add  one-half  beaten  egg,  and  perhaps  by 
to-night  he  can  have  his  regular  allowance  of 
‘ pop  ’ (rice)  that  he  loves  so  much.” 

An  hour  after  You-po-gie  awoke,  and  when 
he  saw  the  detested  milk  and  egg  that  was 
handed  him  while  the  patients  around  were 
eating  their  rice,  he  mourned  again,  quietly  this 
time,  and  his  evil  genius  abided  in  him  still. 
Another  hour  passed,  temperatures  were  to  be 
taken.  You-po-gie  had  had  that  little  glass 
tube  stuck  under  his  small  red  tongue  so  much 
that  he  well  knew  how  to  hold  it  there,  but 
the  evil  genius  centred  upon  that  little  glass 


8i 


You-po-gie 

tube  as  a particularly  fine  thing  to  get  our  poor 
little  friend  in  trouble.  Certainly  our  own 
You-po-gie  would  never  have  done  what  this 
You-po-gie  of  the  evil  genius  did  this  day. 
Instead  of  patiently  holding  the  little  tube  un- 
der the  togue,  he  slyly  put  up  one  little  brown 
hand,  slid  the  small  tube  from  under  the 
tongue,  put  it  between  his  teeth,  and  bit  it  in 
half,  and  then  spat  it  out  on  the  floor,  and — 
thermometers  bought  in  America,  imported 
into  Korea,  cost  two  dollars  and  fifty  cents 
apiece. 

Startled  nurses  ran  in  haste  to  get  any  pieces 
of  glass  from  the  little  red  mouth.  After  he 
had  been  washed  out,  talked  at,  and  chided, 
the  doctor  was  called  to  administer  punish- 
ment. Such  an  expensive  freak  on  the  part  of 
You-po-gie’s  evil  genius  could  not  be  passed 
over,  and  the  luckless  You-po-gie  was  gently 
spanked  by  the  foreign  doctor  who  loved  him. 
Another  fit  of  sobbing,  for  a hurt  heart  was 
the  only  result  of  the  spanking  (it  having  been 
administered  on  top  of  all  his  clothing),  and 
You-po-gie  thought  deep,  dark  things  about 
doctors  and  nurses  in  general  and  thermom- 
eters in  particular.  After  he  had  recovered 
somewhat  the  afternoon  slowly  wore  away, — 
he  wandered  from  bed  to  bed  to  receive  conso- 
lation from  the  sick  patients.  Many  a loving 
pat  and  word  of  endearment  were  slyly  given 
him, — when  the  nurses  were  not  looking, — and 
You-po-gie’s  evil  genius  remained  still  defiant. 
Four  o’clock  came  with  the  renewed  dose  of 
milk  and  egg,  and  our  poor  hero,  inspired  by 
another  attack  from  the  genius,  received  the 


\ 


82  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

cup  of  milk  and  egg,  drank  it  down,  and  in- 
stead of  handing  the  cup  back  to  the  nurse, 
dashed  it  with  all  the  might  in  his  little  body 
against  the  wall,  barely  missing  the  face  of 
Ellen,  the  nurse  in  charge  Ellen  reported  the 
matter  to  the  doctor  while  You-po-gie  stood 
and  looked  on.  Not  a tear  or  sigh  of  regret 
was  visible.  The  doctor  ordered  another 
spanking,  this  timfc  by  Nurse  Ellen.  Now 
Nurse  Ellen,  along  with  the  other  nurses, 
loved  our  boy,  and  while  slightly  provoked,  yet 
the  spanking  was  a very  light  one. 

But  again  You-po-gie’s  heart  was  broken 
and  melted  into  tears.  Another  hour  of  sob- 
bing, and  it  was  a penitent  boy  that  bade 
good-bye  to  that  evil  genius  for  the  day.  So 
penitent  was  he  that  he  went  for  sympathy  to 
but  one  person,  a sick  missionary  in  the  hos- 
pital’s private  room.  Amid  his  sobs  and  tears 
he  told  of  a naughty  boy,  a naughty  doctor, 
naughty  nurses,  and  no  rice.  When  urged  to 
sit  down  on  the  bed  beside  the  missionary,  his 
last  pathetic  appeal  was  made. 

“ 4 On-yu,  on-yu,  Pou-in  ’ (No,  no,  lady), 
I can’t  sit  down;  one  side  the  doctor  spanked 
for  the  thermometer,  the  other  the  nurse 
spanked  for  the  cup.” 

“ Well,”  said  the  missionary,  “ suppose  you 
try  lying  down”;  and  drawing  him  to  her 
side  she  let  him  sob  while  one  little  brown 
paw  stole  around  her  neck,  and  You-po-gie 
slept  the  sleep  of  the  wicked,  or  the  just — who 
shall  say? 

At  bedtime  You-po-gie  was  forgiven  by  doc- 
tor and  nurse,  and  for  weeks  You-po-gie’s  evil 


You-po-gic  83 

genius  steered  clear  of  the  luckless  little 
man. 

But  we  must  hasten  with  our  story  of  how 
You-po-gie  found  his  mission  in  life,  and  the 
doctor  learned  one  reason  why  You-po-gie  had 
been  born. 

Four  months  later  as  morning  prayers  in  the 
hospital  were  concluding  the  Bible  woman  of 
the  native  church  in  the  town  rushed  into  the 
doctor’s  office,  and  when  the  doctor  entered 
the  room,  excitedly  told  her  of  a queer,  sad 
case  in  the  village  that  had  come  to  her  notice 
that  day.  A woman  about  sixty  years  of  age 
had  yielded  herself  as  a servant  of  the  “ Mah- 
gue  ” (the  evil  one),  so  the  story  went,  and 
had  offered  to  him  prayers  and  incense,  asking 
to  be  his  useful  instrument.  He  seemed  to 
have  taken  her  at  her  word,  for  she  had  speed- 
ily developed  into  a blasphemous,  raving  crea- 
ture with  all  the  cunning  of  a maniac.  She 
had  been  for  several  days  a terror  and  menace 
to  her  heathen  relatives  and  the  neighbours 
round  about,  the  Bible  woman  stated;  and  a 
Christian  family  living  near  by  had  sent  for 
the  Bible  woman  to  pray  with  her.  The  Bible 
woman,  fearing  the  case  too  much  for  her, 
persuaded  the  heathen  relatives  to  bring  her 
to  the  hospital.  “ And,”  said  the  woman,  “ lis- 
ten, listen;  she  is  at  the  gate  now.  Don’t  you 
hear  her?  ” 

Truly  the  doctor  heard  her,  and  hurrying 
to  the  gate  she  stood  dismayed  at  the  sight  of 
a woman  struggling  in  the  arms  of  her  son 
and  son-in-law,  wild  of  eye,  long  hair  stream- 
ing, frothing  at  the  mouth;  she  was  enough  to 


84  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

strike  terror  to  the  stoutest  heart.  Seeing  at 
a glance  that  the  woman  needed  medical  at- 
tention, the  doctor  quickly  decided  to  see  what 
she  could  do  with  her.  A place  was  prepared 
in  a vacant  corner  of  the  hospital,  and  while 
the  patients  watched,  the  woman  was  put  upon 
the  warm  Korean  floor,  and  a hypodermic  of 
soothing  medicine  was  administered.  While 
she  slept  she  was  thoroughly  bathed,  her  hair 
combed  and  neatly  arranged,  medical  atten- 
tion given,  and  the  doctor  hoped  that  upon 
her  waking  she  might  be  almost  cured,  but 
this  was  not  to  be.  In  a few  hours  she  was 
so  violent  that  sheets  were  used  to  tie  her, 
so  she  might  not  harm  herself  or  others  round 
about  her.  But  the  straps  that  bound  her  had 
no  effect  upon  the  tongue,  and  the  blasphemous 
and  foul  language  that  poured  from  the  lips 
of  the  poor  old  woman  was  dreadful  to  those 
who  understood  the  Korean  language.  The 
doctor  stood  in  despair,  nurses  hovered  near, 
assisting  when  they  could.  From  time  to  time 
the  sheets  were  torn  asunder  as  if  they  had 
been  ribbon,  and  the  head  American  missionary 
nurse  undertook  to  assist  with  another  hypo- 
dermic of  medicine,  but  the  women  were  not 
strong  enough  to  hold  the  sick  one.  One  hand 
got  loose,  snatched  at  the  white  cap  pinned  to 
the  nurse’s  hair,  tore  it  from  her  head;  and 
pin,  cap,  and  a handful  of  hair,  wrenched  from 
the  head,  were  speedily  torn  to  little  pieces, 
and  all  were  in  despair. 

At  this  critical  juncture,  the  door  of  the  hos- 
pital opened,  and  the  little  figure  of  our  friend 
You-po-gie  entered  the  ward.  His  face  was 


You-po-gie  85 

beaming  with  joy.  For  three  days  he  had 
had  “ pop  ” every  day,  and  now  he  had  had 
a run  in  the  sunshine  which  was  given  an  added 
zest  since  he  had  been  permitted  to  don  his 
new  coat,  and  discard  his  apron-skirt  which  he 
had  long  detested.  His  coat  was  called  “ tou- 
re-mackie,”  and  was  exactly  like  the  outside 
coat  of  all  grown  boys  and  men  in  Korea.  It 
had  been  given  him  at  Christmas  time  along 
with  the  slate,  pencil,  and  toys  that  came  in 
another  Christmas  box.  Why,  he  had  even 
had  his  picture  taken  in  it  with  the  other  sick 
children  in  the  hospital.  What  if  he  did  look 
scared  in  the  picture.  He  was  always  afraid 
of  having  his  picture  taken.  (Life  held  many 
fears  for  our  little  lad.) 

My,  how  he  loved  that  coat!  It  was  col- 
oured bright  red,  and  had  several  layers  of  good 
cotton  batting  between  the  outside  material  and 
the  lining.  This  cold  January  morning  he  had 
been  allowed  to  put  it  on  with  many  injunctions 
to  be  careful,  and  as  he  came  in  the  hospital, 
eager  to  show  he'  had  taken  care  of  that  pre- 
cious “ tou-re-mackie,”  he  found  the  doctor 
and  nurses  and  the  raving  woman  all  too  busy 
to  pay  any  attention  to  his  own  small  self. 
He  clutched  the  dress  of  one  of  the  nurses, 
who  motioned  him  to  be  quiet,  and  he  stood 
with  eyes  big  and  wide  and  listened  to  the 
ravings  of  the  poor  old  demon-possessed 
woman.  Suddenly  You-po-gie’s  good  spirit 
came  to  the  front,  and  he  found  his  mission  in 
life.  Without  a word  to  any  one  he  let  go 
of  the  nurse's  dress,  trotted  over  to  the  raving 
woman,  and  seemingly  utterly  fearless,  placed 


86  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

his  hand  on  her  head.  He  said,  “ Why,  you 
naughty  bad  old  ‘ Hol-man-ie  ’ (grandmother, 
the  title  of  respect  from  the  young  to  the  aged 
in  Korea).  You  are  making  a lot  of  noise, 
and  you  have  got  to  be  good  if  you  stay  here.” 
You-po-gie  had  had  experience  and  knew. 

The  horrified  doctor  darted  forward  to 
catch  the  child  before  the  woman  could  hurt 
him,  but  You-po-gie  waved  her  back. 

“ Stay  there,  doctor ; I’ll  make  her  be  good,” 
he  said,  and  that  was  exactly  what  he  did. 

The  woman  with  one  mighty  jerk  released 
her  hands  from  the  strappings  which  bound 
them,  and  gathering  the  little  lad  in  her  arms, 
she  slowly  rocked  back  and  forward,  crooning 
to  him  words  of  love : “ Ah ! my  baby,  my  baby, 
my  own  lost  grandchild  come  back  to  me. 
‘ Ah-dol,  ah-dol  ’ (son-son),  why  did  you  stay 
away  so  long?  They  put  you  in  the  ground, 
but  you  got  up  and  came  back  to  me.  Don’t 
leave  me  again.” 

Fearfully  the  spectators  waited,  expecting  an 
outcry  from  You-po-gie,  but  our  little  man  had 
come  into  his  own.  He  had  found  his  mission 
in  life.  Nestling  his  little  brown  head  with 
its  many  zephyred  plaits  against  the  strange 
cold  breast  as  he  patted  her  face  with  one  little 
brown  hand,  he  said,  “ Yes,  grandmother,  be 
good  and  I will  always  stay.” 

She  had  taken  him  for  her  dead  grandson, 
and  instinctively  You-po-gie  accepted  the  posi- 
tion, and  after  a little  coddling  from  her  he 
released  himself  from  her  clinging  arms,  say- 
ing, “ Take  away  the  straps,  doctor.  She  will 
be  good  now ; let  us  give  her  some  ‘ pop.’  ” 


You-po-gie  87 

The  nurses  prepared  the  food  and  watched 
as  You-po-gie  with  spoonful  after  spoonful 
fed  the  old  woman  first,  his  own  little  bowl 
waiting  near  by.  After  the  rice  had  been 
eaten,  she  watched  him  as  he  ate  his,  perfectly 
quiet  except  for  a murmur  of  love  words  now 
and  then  which  he  answered  with  a beaming 
smile,  which  made  the  old  heart  beat  faster, 
and  the  nurses  again  wanted  to  devour  our 
You-po-gie  whole  from  sheer  love.  When  the 
eating  was  all  done,  he  told  the  new-found 
grandma  to  lie  down,  seated  himself  beside  her 
and  sang  her  to  sleep. 

Now  right  here  a word  of  explanation  is 
necessary.  You-po-gie  had  attended  services 
in  the  church  next  door  to  the  hospital  every 
Sabbath  when  well  enough  so  to  do.  He  had 
been  invited  to  learn  and  recite  his  verse  with 
the  patients  at  morning  prayers.  He  had  seem- 
ingly tried  so  to  do,  but  in  the  two  years  of  his 
life  in  the  hospital  had  learned  but  one  verse 
perfectly,  and  that  one  was,  “ Jesus  wept.” 
True  he  had  memorized  the  first  and  last  words 
of  several  other  verses,  but  beyond  that  he  had 
never  gotten.  The  Lord’s  Prayer  had  suffered 
the  same  way — “ Our  Father — in  Heaven — for 
Jesus’  sake,  Amen,”  was  all  of  that  he  knew; 
and  as  for  the  hymn, — 

“ Jesus  loves  me,  this  I know, 

For  the  Bible  tells  me  so.” 

“ Yes,  Jesus  loves  me,”  the  first  line  of  the 
chorus,  was  all  he  had  accomplished  in  that. 
Everybody  had  given  up  teaching  him,  think- 


88  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

ing  he  was  unable  to  learn,  but  on  this  amaz- 
ing day,  when  You-po-gie  came  into  his  own, 
he  was  heard  singing  to  the  old  lady  the  entire 
verse  and  chorus  of  the  hymn,  besides  repeat- 
ing softly  many  sentences  of  the  Lord’s  Prayer 
that  he  never  before  had  been  known  to  repeat 
voluntarily,  and  following  all  this  with  almost 
a whole  verse  of  one  of  the  verses  he  had 
seemingly  been  unable  to  learn. 

The  old  lady  slept  at  last,  and  as  the  little 
lad  left  her  he  was  seized  by  doctor  and  nurses 
alike  and  caressed  until  his  little  heart  was  full 
to  overflowing  with  the  wealth  of  love  show- 
ered on  him.  He  was  awakened  from  his 
afternoon  nap  by  the  hideous  wails  of  the 
woman,  who  had  awakened  and  missed  him. 
Bounding  up  from  his  little  bed,  he  ran  to 
her  and  once  more  quieted  her  by  talking  to 
her.  After  a while  he  explained  to  her  that  he 
must  run  outside  and  play  a while.  She  was 
loath  to  have  him  go,  but  after  an  afternoon 
lunch  had  been  administered  by  the  nurse  to 
You-po-gie,  and  by  You-po-gie  to  the  woman 
first,^  and  himself  afterward,  he  gained  consent 
to  go  to  the  garden  and  play.  The  woman 
could  see  him  from  the  window,  and  seemed 
very  quiet,  but  after  two  hours  when  he  for- 
got and  ran  behind  the  hospital,  she  lost  sight 
of  him,  and  the  old  rage  possessed  her  once 
more.  The  boy  heard  her  from  the  outside 
and,  running  back,  flew  into  her  arms,  soothed 
her,  scolded  her,  told  her  Jesus  loved  her  when 
she  was  good,  exhibited  to  her  his  new  “ tou- 
re-mackie  ” with  great  pride,  and  again  the  lion 
was  a lamb,  and  the  boy  had  won. 


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You-po-gie  89 

For  almost  two  weeks  You-po-gie  took  sole 
charge  of  the  poor  old  woman,  standing  by 
when  she  was  bathed  and  dressed,  and  doing 
whatever  the  nurse  bade  him  do  to  help  them 
until  the  relatives  of  the  woman  once  more 
came  to  see  how  she  was  getting  on.  Finding 
her  so  quiet  they  decided  to  take  her  home. 
The  doctor  urged  them  not  to,  explaining  what 
You-po-gie  had  done  in  the  case,  and  that  she 
still  needed  niedical  attention,  but  they  would 
not  listen.  You-po-gie  stood  by  her  side,  one 
arm  tightly  clasped  around  her  neck  as  the  men 
lifted  her  and  placed  her  in  a Korean  travelling 
chair.  She  set  him  on  her  lap,  and  he  was  car- 
ried as  far  as  the  hospital  gate,  where  the 
doctor  interfered  and  lifted  the  boy  in  her  own 
arms.  There  he  waved  good-bye,  and  told  the 
woman  he  would  come  to  see  her  if  she  was 
good,  but  that  Jesus  loved  her.  She  called  to 
him  and  seemed  to  go  frenzied  again  as  the 
chair  went  down  the  road.  You-po-gie  sighed 
as  the  doctor  led  him  in  the  hospital,  saying: 
“ They  ought  to  let  her  be  with  me ; she  won’t 
be  good  without  me,  ‘ Wee-won,’  till  she  knows 
Jesus  loves  her.  I could  teach  her  that.” 

“ Yes,  verily,”  said  the  doctor,  in  words 
You-po-gie  could  not  understand,  “ ‘ A little 
child  shall  lead  them.’  ” 

Our  story  grows  too  long,  but  of  course  you 
will  want  to  know  that  the  Bible  woman  fol- 
lowed up  the  case,  found  that  the  old  woman 
had  raved  several  times,  calling  for  the  boy, 
but  would  quiet  down  when  a Christian  neigh- 
bour repeated  to  her,  “ Jesus  loves  you.” 

Within  two  weeks’  time,  disease  and  old  age 


90  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

had  their  way,  and  the  old  woman  died,  but 
the  last  words  the  Christian  neighbours  heard 
her  repeat  were,  “ Jesus  loves, — the  boy  said 
it, — Jesus  loves,” — and  the  worn-out  body 
yielded  to  the  last  master — Death. 

They  never  told  You-po-gie  she  had  died, 
but  the  little  boy  seemed  to  lose  strength  rap- 
idly. For  over  a year  he  lingered,  now  sick, 
now  better,  and  one  day  when  the  doctor  held 
him  in  her  arms  for  a brief  moment  he  asked 
for  the  sick  missionary  who  had  gone  to  Amer- 
ica, and  for  the  old  woman  he  “ tried  to  make 
good.”  He  whispered  in  the  doctor’s  ear, 
“ They  all  go  way,  my  friends,  and  they  don’t 
come  back.  I am  so  tired,  4 Wee-won.’  ” And 
the  doctor,  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  said,  “ Yes, 
dear,  rest,”  and  a few  hours  after  You-po-gie 
rested  with  Jesus. 


VIII 


A LETTER  FROM  SEOUL 

September  1 6,  19 — . 

DEAR  LITTLE  SISTER:— I shall  try 
now  to  write  you  that  long  delayed 
letter  from  Korea.  I wish  I might 
make  it  interesting  to  you,  but  I feel  unable  to 
“ tell  it  all  ” as  you  asked  me  to  do  before 
I left  home.  As  I sit  here  in  my  study  in 
this  American-built  missionary  home  at  the 
East  Gate  of  the  city,  high  up  on  the  hill  over- 
looking the  town,  I feel  as  I look  out  over  the 
city  that  this  letter  can  never  picture  to  your 
mind  this  strange  “ Land  of  the  Morning 
Calm,”  but  I will  do  my  best. 

See,  if  you  can,  a little  town  enclosed  by 
two  mountain  ranges  reminding  one  of  the 
passage  in  the  Bible  where  it  says,  “ As  the 
mountains  are  round  about  Jerusalem,  so  is 
the  Lord  round  about  them  that  fear  him.” 
The  town  nestles  here  thus  shut  in,  surrounded 
by  a wall  said  to  be  thousands  of  years  old, 
quite  crumbled  in  many  places,  yet  still  a wall, 
four  great  gates  piercing  it.  The  North  Gate, 
the  South  Gate,  the  West  Gate,  and  this  our 
own  East  Gate,  which  is  two  stories  in  height. 
The  gateway  itself  is  narrow  and  small  and 
arched  overhead,  what  we  would  call  the  sec- 
91 


92  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

ond  story  of  the  gate  is  a place  where  in 
ancient  times  the  soldiers  are  said  to  have 
stood  to  keep  the  enemy  from  entering  the 
gates.  Funny  little  stone  monkeys  are  perched 
around  the  edge  of  the  second  story  part  of 
the  gate.  These  are  supposed  to  be  powerful 
aids  in  the  keeping  away  of  evil  spirits  who 
might  want  to  enter  the  city  and  cause  trouble 
to  its  inhabitants.  This  is  a portion  of  ancient 
Korea’s  superstitious  belief.  All  the  gates 
have  these  strange  images  perched  on  the  edge 
of  the  structures  and  they  are  real  queer  look- 
ing when  close  to  them. 

How  I wish  you  could  come  here  and  see 
these  things  for  yourself : that  would  be  better 
than  all.  Maybe  you  can  some  day,  but  now 
you  are  just  a little  girl  of  America,  loved  by 
everybody  in  the  home.  Your  life  is  so  free 
from  fear  and  superstition  you  will  hardly  un- 
derstand why  it  is  that  old  Korea  has  had 
superstition  so  long  a time  in  her  midst.  I 
would  like  some  day  to  see  you  come  yourself, 
as  I have  come,  to  try  to  rid  Korea  of  her 
fears  and  troubles  and  tell  her  about  the  Jesus 
who  loves  Korea  and  America  as  well;  but 
3^ou  are  a little  girl  as  yet,  many  lessons  must 
be  studied,  many  inches  you  must  grow,  and 
many  things  must  come  to  pass  ere  you  are 
big  enough  to  come  to  Korea,  so  while  you 
are  waiting  your  turn  to  cross  the  broad  Pacific 
you  shall  take  with  me  this  little  journey 
around  our  city  called  Seoul,  the  capital  of 
Korea. 

We  will  now  go  on  a car  which  runs  sev- 
eral miles  outside  the  city,  passing  through  the 


A Letter  from  Seoul  93 

gate  and  across  the  city  to  the  West  Gate 
three  miles  away.  The  trolley  car  is  a new 
venture  for  Korea.  American  mine  owners 
have  placed  the  power  house  here  inside  the 
East  Gate;  have  a single  track  across  the  city 
and  a very  few  cars.  The  cars  are  open  at  each 
end,  the  people  sit  back  to  back,  and  there  is 
a small  closed  place  in  the  centre  of  the  car, 
not  very  large,  but  much  warmer  in  the  winter 
time  than  these  outside  shelf-like  seats. 
Korean  motormen  and  conductors  run  the  cars, 
and  it  is  said  that  when  the  cars  were  first 
run  upon  the  track  they  had  to  send  the  con- 
ductors walking  ahead  of  the  car  to  persuade 
the  Koreans  to  step  out  of  the  middle  of  the 
track  where  they  had  been  standing  watching 
the  car  as  it  approached  them;  others,  finding 
the  tracks  just  about  as  high  as  the  pillows 
used  in  their  homes  ( for  their  pillows 
consist  of  something  placed  in  the  back  of  the 
neck),  had  rested  their  weary  bodies  and  were 
soon  asleep  with  heads  on  the  track.  All  this 
took  time  and  the  cars  made  only  about  two 
trips  a day  for  a long  time.  In  spite  of  their 
precaution  several  Koreans  were  hurt,  and  the 
people  tried  to  mob  the  cars,  but  they  are  run- 
ning now,  and  you  can  travel  across  the  city 
three  miles  in  three-quarters  of  an  hour,  if  the 
car  makes  its  usual  time. 

Suppose  we  try  a trip  on  a car.  We  will 
sit  here  on  the  outside  so  we  can  see  things,  but 
be  careful  to  hold  on  to  the  side  of  the  seat, 
as  the  road  is  rough  in  places  and  you  might 
be  jarred  off.  Don’t  be  dismayed  at  the  dust. 
You  have  to  get  used  to  that  in  Korea.  Well, 


94  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

we’re  off!  You  will  notice  first  the  houses, 
just  low  huts,  built  of  rough  stones,  tied  to- 
gether with  straw  rope,  then  plastered  with 
mud.  Huts  or  hovels  you  might  call  them,  but 
they  are  the  only  buildings  the  Korean  people 
know  to  call  their  homes.  No,  they  do  not 
call  them  homes;  their  word  means  house. 
The  people  of  heathenism  know  nothing  of 
homes  nor  of  music,  nor  of  caring  for  the  sick 
and  afflicted,  nor  of  the  healing  art  of  medicine 
and  surgery.  All  these,  dear,  belong  to  the 
land  where  Christ  Jesus  has  had  the  right  of 
way.  You  notice  these  houses  have  straw 
roofs.  There  is  one  with  a tile  roof.  Probably 
that  man  has  a little  more  money  than  the 
rest  of  his  neighbours,  for  tile  roofs  cost  more, 
though  they  wear  longer. 

The  smoke!  Oh,  yes,  that  comes  from  the 
chimney  of  the  house,  but  the  chimney  is  under 
the  house.  There  are  flues  built  under  the 
floors,  wood  is  burned  in  them,  and  the  smoke 
comes  from  the  burning  wood  which  will  heat 
the  cement  floor  so  it  will  be  quite  comfortable 
to  sit  on  with  oil  paper  pasted  over  it  and  a 
mat  or  two  for  the  only  chairs.  But  the  car 
is  going  and  we  are  not  looking  at  things. 
Notice  the  coolie.  He’s  got  a great  heavy  bag 
of  rice  on  his  back,  but  he  is  a very  important 
person  in  Korea.  He  is  the  burden  bearer  of 
Korea.  You  see  the  little  narrow  roads  lead- 
ing between  the  houses  are  too  small  to  run 
carts  on,  and  so  the  man  has  become  the  bur- 
den bearer  of  Korea.  He  will  carry  your 
trunk,  weighing  a hundred  and  fifty  or  two 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds,  strapped  to  his  back, 


A Letter  from  Seoul  95 

walking  steadily  for  three  or  four  hours,  up 
the  mountains,  out  into  the  country,  and  re- 
turning to  the  city  the  same  day  with  his  bur- 
den, to  all  appearances  none  the  worse  for  his 
trip;  but  you  must  not  let  him  know  he  is 
necessary  to  you  or  you  will  pay  him  six  times 
as  much  as  his  work  is  worth.  These  carts 
on  this  main  road  carry  several  bags  of  rice. 
See,  they  are  drawn  by  oxen,  or  sometimes  by 
several  men.  But  these  can  only  go  on  the 
main  roads. 

Next  we  see  the  water  carrier,  with  a bucket 
hanging  on  each  side  of  a horizontal  bar 
strapped  to  his  back.  Water  is  hard  to  get  in 
Korea.  The  old  superstition  still  bothers  the 
people.  They  have  always  imagined  their 
country  was  on  the  back  of  a dragon,  and 
they  feared  if  they  dug  wells  to  get  water  that 
the  dragon  would  be  offended,  and  earthquake 
and  dire  disaster  would  follow,  so  the  water  has 
to  be  carried  from  the  river  or  from  the  wells 
that  some  people  have  been  brave  enough  to  dig 
in  spite  of  the  dragon,  and  therefore  water  is 
sold  to  the  householder  and  is  very  precious. 
Most  of  the  bathing  of  Korea  is  done  where  the 
washing  is  done,  in  streams  or  ditches  flowing 
to  and  from  the  river  some  distance  outside 
of  the  city.  The  white  clothes  of  the  people — 
what  do  you  say  ? “ They  are  not  very 

white.”  Well,  no,  they  are  not  very  white, 
but  perhaps  ours  would  not  be  white  either  if 
they  were  only  washed  once  in  three,  four,  or 
five  months.  Since  there  are  a good  many  in 
the  family,  it  takes  a good  while  to  get  around 
to  wash  each  one’s  clothes.  You  see,  they 


96  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

must  all  be  ripped  apart  and  the  lining  of 
cotton  taken  out,  then  they  must  be  beaten  on 
the  stones  in  the  streams,  then  the  material 
must  be  wrapped  around  funny  wooden  rollers 
and  ironed  with  ironing  sticks,  and  this  means 
that  these  wooden  sticks  beat  the  clothes  as 
it  is  wrapped  around  the  roll  until  it  has 
quite  a gloss  on  it  and  looks  very  neat  and 
pretty  when  it  is  all  made  up  again.  The  ma- 
terial is  usually  muslin.  What’s  that  you  say? 
“ The  children,  a good  many  of  them,  have 
bright  coloured  clothes.”  Oh,  yes,  they  do. 
The  colour  washes  out,  however,  and  they  are 
re-dyed  after  they  are  washed.  Fast  coloured 
dyes  are  not  yet  known  in  Korea.  If  the 
Y.  M.  C.  A.  are  successful  with  their  indus- 
trial school,  Korea  will  be  taught  very  shortly 
to  use  fast  dyes  and  to  do  things  differently. 
What’s  that  ? “ There  is  a child  without  any 
clothes.”  Yes,  that  is  natural  to  Korea  during 
the  months  between  the  first  of  May  and  the 
first  of  October.  The  parents  claim  that  the 
children  do  not  need  the  clothing,  they  are  too 
warm,  so  the  little  folks  run  about  the  streets 
until  they  are  about  eight  or  ten  years  of  age 
clothed  only  in  the  straw  sandals  on  the  feet, 
a hair  ribbon  on  the  plaited  hair,  and  the  sun- 
shine. These  are  mostly  the  boys.  The  mis- 
sionaries are  insisting  upon  children  being 
clothed,  much  to  the  distress  of  these  little  fel- 
lows. My  Bible  woman  came  to  me  the  other 
day  with  a tale  of  how  she  had  gone  almost 
daily  to  a certain  district  to  help  the  Christians 
keep  their  children  clothed.  She  said  she  went 
one  day  and  found  a little  boy  covered  with 


A Letter  from  Seoul 


97 


sunshine  but  nothing  else.  She  recognized 
him  as  the  child  of  one  of  the  new  Christian 
families.  She  led  him  to  his  home,  called  his 
mother,  and  told  her  he  must  have  his  clothes 
put  on.  The  mother,  in  great  distress,  ex- 
plained, “ Oh,  dear  Pou-in  (lady),  four  times 
this  day  have  I put  on  his  clothes  and  four 
times  has  he  taken  his  clothes  off  in  the  street 
while  I was  busy  in  another  part  of  the  house, 
rolled  them  into  a bundle,  and  thrown  them 
in  the  gateway,  where  I found  them,  but 
couldn’t  find  him.  Each  time  I have  gotten 
him  when  I went  to  the  street  for  him,  and 
I have  scolded  him  and  I have  whipped  him, 
and  yet  again  he  is  without  them,  and  what 
shall  I do  ? ” The  Bible  woman  said  she 
looked  down  at  the  little  brown  specimen  of 
humanity,  and  looking  into  the  bright  brown 
eyes,  said : “ Why  don’t  you  keep  your  clothes 
on  like  other  Christian  little  boys?  ” “ Well,” 
answered  the  young  hopeful  of  the  Kim  fam- 
ily, “ Now  for  why  should  I wear  my  clothes ; 
the  days  are  very  hot,  cold  I am  not,  and  the 
clothes  they  are  only  in  the  way.  My  parents 
they  are  the  Christians  both,  but  I,  I am  not 
a Christian  boy  because  I don’t  want  to  wear 
the  clothes,  for  it  is  too  hot.”  When  the  Bible 
woman  told  me  this,  little  sister  dear,  I re- 
membered some  of  the  days  when  you  were  a 
very  little  girl  and  wanted  to  run  about  the 
house  and  the  garden,  and  once  we  caught  you 
out  in  the  street  with  your  shoes  and  stockings 
off,  and  your  explanation  was,  “ But  it’s  too 
hot,  the  shoes  and  stockings  are  only  in  the 
way.  The  little  boy  that  sells  papers  has  no 


98  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

shoes  and  stockings  on,  why  should  I have 
them?”  But  it  is  mean  to  remind  you  of 
this  now  when  you  are  grown  and  see  the 
necessity  of  shoes  and  stockings,  as  no  doubt 
that  little  boy  now  sees  the  necessity  for 
clothes. 

You  say,  “ There  are  horses ! ” Those  are 
hardly  horses.  That  is  one  of  the  little  Korean 
ponies.  They  are  all  rather  wild.  You  see,  he 
has  a load  of  brushwood  on  his  back.  That  is 
for  somebody’s  fire.  The  poor  people  burn 
the  brushwood  instead  of  the  logs  of  wood. 
Logs  are  too  expensive.  Well,  the  ponies  of 
Korea  are  very  interesting.  I have  an  idea 
that  the  only  creature  in  Korea  that  will  never 
be  “ converted  ” is  the  Korean  pony.  You  see, 
this  one  is  dirty,  as  they  all  are;  but  the  way 
the  Korean  pony  can  decide  to  become  clean 
all  of  a sudden  is  quite  interesting.  His  ef- 
forts in  that  line  usually  occur  when  he  has 
a missionary’s  load  of  food  and  bedding 
strapped  to  his  back,  or  when  a missionary  is 
seated  on  his  back  for  a long  country  trip  and 
he  sees  a stream  of  water  ahead  of  him.  There 
are  very  few  bridges  across  the  streams  in 
Korea,  and  the  pony  is  always  urged  to  walk 
carefully  through  the  stream  of  water  to  the 
opposite  bank,  but  there’s  where  the  desire  to 
take  a bath  usually  strikes  him.  The  way  he 
can  throw  his  load  or  unseat  the  adventurous 
foreigner  by  rolling  on  his  back  in  the  water, 
only  to  rise  and  canter  away,  scattering  what 
is  left  of  the  load  on  his  back  for  at  least  a 
mile,  is  indeed  a marvellous  feat. 

One  day  there  was  a missionary  seated  on 


A Letter  from  Seoul 


99 

top  of  a load  of  bedding  on  a pony’s  back. 
The  pony  carried  that  missionary  safely  across 
the  stream  and  started  up  the  bank  on  the  op- 
posite side.  He  got  halfway  up  to  a sort  of 
a shelf  in  the  bank,  then  paused  to  rest,  and 
at  the  command  of  the  boy  who  was  leading 
him,  he  started  up  the  rest  of  the  incline,  only 
about  four  feet  higher  up.  Suddenly  he  gave 
a wicked  little  toss  to  his  head,  and  with  a 
movement  or  two  of  those  nimble  little  limbs, 
loosened  that  load  of  bedding,  and,  placing 
himself  in  as  graceful  a position  as  he  could 
to  get  that  load  of  bedding  off,  he  soon  sent 
it  sliding  down  his  little  brown  back ; and  after 
it  had  reached  the  ground,  with  the  missionary 
underneath  it,  and  underneath  the  missionary 
the  boy  who  had  been  following  behind,  he 
peacefully  walked  the  rest  of  the  way  up  the 
bank,  turned,  and  laughed.  Yes,  he  did,  little 
sister,  he  really  laughed  as  he  surveyed  the 
downfall  of  the  hated  foreigner.  Meanwhile, 
from  under  the  missionary  somewhere  came 
the  weak  voice  of  the  boy,  saying : “ I am 
killed  entirely ; but,  lady,  where  are  you  ? Are 
you  hurt?  ” But  the  missionary,  managing  to 
get  her  breath  as  she  pushed  the  load  from 
off  her  face,  said:  “ No,  not  hurt;  just  resting. 
Where’s  the  pony  ? ” In  answer  to  the  ques- 
tion, the  voice  beneath  her  somewhere  said: 
“ Lady,  if  you  will  take  your  rest  over  on  the 
ground  a little  way  and  let  me  get  out,  I will 
try  to  find  the  pony.”  And  again  the  pony 
laughed  right  out  loud,  and,  do  you  know,  sis- 
ter, when  that  missionary  sat  up,  releasing  the 
boy  beneath  her,  and  pushing  the  load  of  bed- 


ioo  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

ding  from  on  top  of  her,  she  looked  an  awful 
lot  like  your  sister;  but  you  need  not  tell  any 
one  this.  That  missionary  has  been  crossing 
streams  in  Korean  chairs  since.  She  doesn’t 
like  ponies  very  much  since  that  time;  they 
laugh  too  much. 

Ah,  here  is  a pony  getting  on  a new  shoe; 
as  you  see,  he  must  be  tied  on  every  side.  His 
head  is  tied,  his  tail  is  tied  to  one  leg,  each 
leg  has  a separate  rope  fastened  to  four  posts, 
and  there  are  two  men  trying  to  hold  him  as 
well.  He  doesn’t  like  to  get  new  shoes,  and  he 
will  successfully  resist  this  one  if  they  are  not 
careful. 

Now,  we  are  on  the  main  shopping  street 
of  the  city.  Here  are  the  stores  all  opening 
right  out  on  the  street.  You  see,  there  are  no 
sidewalks  on  the  streets  of  Seoul.  All  the 
goods  are  right  out  on  the  place  that  would  be 
the  sidewalk  at  home.  At  night  the  things  are 
all  piled  inside  of  the  boxlike  structure  called 
the  store.  Heavy  boards  are  slid  into  a groove 
in  front,  and,  behold,  the  whole  store  is  safely 
closed.  Here  is  a store  where  they  sell  every- 
thing made  of  rice  straw,  and  the  number  of 
things  the  people  make  out  of  rice  straw  baf- 
fles description.  Brushes,  brooms,  mats,  and 
mattings,  mourning  hats  for  the  sons  of  the 
family  whose  father  had  died,  baskets,  shoes, 
and  many  things  I cannot  stop  to  mention. 
The  next  shop  sells  water  jars  to  hold  the  water 
brought  from  the  few  wells  of  the  city  or  pur- 
chased from  the  water  carriers.  We  have  our 
own  well  on  our  compound.  A compound,  you 
know,  is  a closed-in  portion  of  ground  with 


A Letter  from  Seoul  ioi 

a wall  running  around  it  that  contains  the 
buildings  that  belongs  to  each  mission  station ; 
but  to  go  back  to  the  water  jars : I often  won- 
der if  these  were  not  exactly  like  the  water 
jars  used  in  the  days  of  Jesus  when  he  lived 
over  in  Palestine.  Oh,  that  these  people  may 
soon  learn  of  the  Master  who  can  fill  their 
lives  from  the  “ Water  of  Life  ” as  he  filled 
the  water  jars  with  the  bright  rich  wine  at 
the  marriage  feast  at  Cana  of  Galilee. 

You  say,  u We  do  not  see  many  women.” 
No,  dear,  women  do  not  travel  the  streets  as 
they  do  in  our  country.  Only  the  older  women 
of  the  household  go  out  and  do  the  washing. 
There  is  a woman  with  a water  jar  on  her 
head,  carrying  it  as  they  used  to  do  in  the 
days  of  Jesus.  Women  of  Korea  are  very  se- 
cluded; little  girls  of  your  size  as  well.  Oh, 
my  dear  child,  look  at  this  picture  of 
“ Korean  girlies  ” that  I have  sent  you,  and 
be  glad  that  these  bright  little  folks  are  learn- 
ing of  cleanliness  and  Christlikeness  and  their 
houses  are  becoming  homes  in  every  sense  of 
the  word  because  missionaries  are  here  to  tell 
them. 

Have  you  noticed  the  hats  of  the  Korean 
men  ? Those  black  hats  are  made  of  horsehair, 
and  are  put  on  after  a man  is  married.  Until 
that  time  the  boys  wear  their  hair  down  their 
back,  plaited,  just  as  the  girls  do,  but  at  mar- 
riage the  hair  from  the  centre  of  the  head  is 
shaved,  the  rest  is  drawn  up  in  a topknot  at 
the  top  of  the  head.  A horsehair  band  is 
placed  around  the  head,  then  the  hat  is  put  on 
and  tied  under  the  chin.  A man  wears  his 


102  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

hat  from  the  time  he  arises  in  the  morning 
until  he  goes  to  bed  at  night.  He  keeps  his 
hat  on  in  the  house,  but  takes  his  sandal-like 
shoes  off  at  the  door,  just  the  opposite  to  what 
we  do.  There  are  two  gentlemen  who  have 
rain  hats  on  top  of  their  other  hats.  The  rain 
hat  is  made  of  oil  paper  and  is  tied  on  with 
a string  over  the  other  hat.  When  folded 
together  it  looks  like  a fan,  and  the  men  al- 
ways carry  them  with  them  in  case  it  might 
rain.  One  of  the  lady  missionaries  told  me 
that  she  had  written  a letter  home  when  she 
had  been  here  about  a month,  and  told  her 
people  that  her  Korean  teacher  always  carried 
his  fan  with  him,  though  it  was  the  middle 
of  winter;  what  she  thought  was  a fan  was 
only  the  rain  hat.  She  learned  better  later. 

But  we  have  almost  reached  the  West  Gate 
of  the  city  and  our  journey  is  at  an  end.  Here 
near  the  West  Gate  is  located  the  palace  of  the 
Emperor,  in  which  lives  the  little  prince  of 
whom  I intend  to  write  shortly.  He  is  a bright 
little  fellow,  and  would  like  to  learn  the  for- 
eign ways  and  customs  if  permitted  to  do  so. 
Here  also  are  the  legations  of  all  the  dilferent 
nations  where  the  ministers  or  consuls  live. 
Here,  also,  is  an  active  centre  of  our  own 
mission,  with  a girls’  and  boys’  school,  our  hos- 
pital, called  “ The  Salvation  for  All  Women 
Hospital,”  and  several  of  our  churches. 

From  time  to  time,  dear,  I hope  to  write 
you  incidents  about  the  people  in  this  hospital 
and  experiences  of  my  own,  and  since  you 
always  say  “ tell  it  to  me  like  a story,”  I will 
try  to  write  them  in  story  form  after  this,  just 


A Letter  from  Seoul  103 

to  please  you,  for  even  as  I write  to-day  I 
can  feel  your  little  arms  around  my  neck,  the 
kisses  you  gave  me  that  last  night  before  I left 
home  for  the  night  train,  as,  sleepy  and  tired, 
you  were  about  to  be  carried  off  to  bed.  Do 
you  remember  what  you  said  to  me  then,  dear, 
as  I held  you,  oh,  so  tight,  knowing  it  would 
be  years  before  I saw  you  again?  Do  you  re- 
member how  in  sleepy  tones  you  said,  “ Don’t 
stay  long,  sister;  go  tell  the  little  children  of 
Korea  about  Jesus,  but  don’t  stay  long;  do  it 
quick.”  I am  doing  it,  dear,  but  it  is  not  very 
quick  work,  and  you  will  have  to  wait  awhile 
till  sister  comes  back  to  you;  but,  dear  heart, 
it  is  partly  for  your  sake,  as  I feel  again  the 
clinging  arms  around  my  neck  that  I go  out 
to  hunt  into  the  byways  and  the  hedges  of 
Korea  to  find  the  little  ones  who  are  not  so  for- 
tunate as  you  are  and,  oh,  I love  them,  Mamie ; 
next  to  your  own  dear  little  self,  in  my 
heart  are  the  children  of  Korea. 

Your  loving  sister, 

M . 


IX 


THE  RINGING  BELLS 

IN  some  of  our  city  hospitals  a bell  is  rung 
each  time  that  an  ambulance  case  arrives. 
Listen!  there  is  a bell  ringing  at  this 
moment.  One  bell — an  emergency  case.  But 
this  bell  has  a distant  sound — it  is  ringing  in 
China.  A man  has  fallen  from  a tree;  there 
he  lies,  mangled  and  suffering.  Why  does  not 
some  one  hear  his  groans  ? Where  is  the 
needed  help — the  physician,  the  ambulance? 
Ah ! we  are  in  China  now ; there  is  no  physician 
here.  Many  look  at  him  and  pass  on,  leaving 
him  to  die.  They  do  not  know  what  to  do  and 
they  do  not  care.  The  knowledge  and  the 
sympathy  are  in  another  land. 

Clang!  The  bell  rings  once  more,  but  in 
our  own  city.  Then  minutes  pass  by ; the  man 
has  been  carefully  carried  into  our  city  hos- 
pital. An  anaesthetic  is  given,  the  X-ray  is 
used,  and  the  patient  wakes  to  find  a limb  gone, 
but  his  life  is  saved  and  there  is  prospect  of  a 
speedy  recovery.  Why  the  difference  in  these 
two  cases?  The  last  bell  rang  in  a Christian 
land,  the  first  in  a foreign  country,  and  nearly 
all  the  physicians  are  here. 

But  hark!  Two  bells  are  ringing — a sur- 
gical call.  A hurried  operation,  to  save  a life! 
104 


The  Ringing  Bells  105 

Yes,  but  the  operation  will  not  be  performed, 
the  life  will  not  be  saved.  That  summons  came 
from  Siam,  and  there  is  no  medical  missionary 
at  hand.  What  is  the  answer  to  the  two  bells  ? 
“ Enough  to  do  at  home  ” 

Three  hells — how  they  startle!  A medical 
case.  Yes,  a child  in  convulsions,  but  do  not 
hurry.  The  sound  of  the  three  bells  comes 
from  Africa.  A witch  doctor  prescribes  for 
her,  a red-hot  probe  is  pressed  through  the  top 
of  her  head  to  let  the  demons  out.  Well,  they 
are  gone,  but  the  soul  went  with  them.  The 
child  is  at  least  free  from  suffering. 

But  I hear  three  bells  ringing  in  the  home- 
land. It  is  a child  in  America  that  is  ill — one 
of  our  own  darlings.  Soon  the  doctor  comes. 
There  is  the  quiet  footfall  of  the  nurse,  the 
shaded  lamp,  and  all  that  skill  can  do  to  relieve 
the  little  sufferer.  One  hour  passes,  two — yes, 
she  will  live ! But  this  is  America.  Why  this 
difference?  Does  God  love  American  children 
hest? 

But  four  hells  are  ringing  now — ringing  in 
the  homeland.  Quick,  doctor ! Hurry,  nurse ! 
Two  lives  depend  upon  your  skill.  It  is  a 
charity  case,  yet  how  careful  the  treatment  be- 
stowed on  mother  and  child. 

But  listen ! Four  bells  ringing  out  loud  and 
clear  from  the  zenanas  of  India.  O women 
doctors ! Can  you  not  see  the  agony,  the  foul 
treatment,  the  needed  help?  But  there  is  no 
one  to  help.  The  child  lives,  but  it  is  only  a 
girl;  the  girl  mother,  too,  but  to  a life  of 
misery,  pain,  and  contempt,  with  no  one  to 
comfort  and  no  one  to  care. 


io6  The  Happiest  Girl  in  Korea 

Oh,  the  ringing  bells!  It  seems  as  if  they 
will  madden  the  brain  and  break  the  heart  with 
their  unanswered  appeals.  “ Lord  of  harvest, 
send  forth  labourers ! ” But  how  vain  our 
prayers  unless  with  them  goes  the  answering 
cry,  “ Here  am  I,  Lord ; send  me.” 


4 


Fruited  in  the  United  States  of  America 


